


it's complicated

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: it's complicated [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brock tries to class up this relationship, Darcy Lewis Met Frank Through Foggy, F/M, M/M, She and Frank are oddly alike, She really loves Brock but he travels a lot, There is a cute pit bull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 17:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19300150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: “You’re going to live with both of them?” Jane said, shocked, when Darcy explained what was going on. "Frank CastleandBrock?"“Yes,” Darcy said. “Whenever Brock is in town. We're doing a schedule, so I rotate who I sleep with," she explained.“Just don’t get shot in some sort of friendly-fire dispute over who has sex night,” Jane said.“Jane!”“Or stabbed.”





	1. He's Great When He's Here

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing! A spin-off of my tumblr Taserbones prompts series. Hit me up if you want more Taserbones stuff.

“So,” Jane said significantly, “Frank’s staying with you?”

“Yeah. And I’m watching his dog if he goes to New York to see Curtis or Karen. So?” Darcy looked up from her email replies and gave the scientist a look. The look suggested that Darcy was totally over Jane’s terrible attempt at subtlety.

“What’s Rumlow going to say?” Jane asked.

“How droll of you to even think he’s aware of my existence,” Darcy said. “I have no idea where Brock is. He called me to say he’d visit four months ago and never showed. Again,” she added. This was an old pattern: he’d disappear for months at a time for work, show up as if he’d seen her yesterday, they’d have a great week or a few days, Brock would promise her more time and attention, and then, poof, he was gone again.

“Yeah,” Jane said, “listen, Darce, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but, um, Brock is—”

“Is like my father, yes, I have noticed the similarities,” Darcy said coolly. “When I was twelve, my dad would promise me a horse or something and then I wouldn’t hear from him for nine months. Now Brock promises me we’ll get spend more time together and does the same disappearing routine,” she said, sighing. Then she started to cry. “I know I should just cut him out of my life, too, but that’s actually really difficult when he keeps randomly showing up. And when he’s here, he’s so  _great_. At least my dad bailed once I turned eighteen.” She put her hands over her face and wept. Jane hugged her. “And we haven’t gotten to the unwrapped Barbies left in grocery bags on the porch for my birthday stage yet,” she said sadly. Her father had done that once. She hadn’t actually seen him for that birthday, just come home to a grocery bag with a doll in it hanging on the front door handle. She rested her head on Jane’s shoulder for a second, trying to calm her breathing. “Wouldn’t want to miss that,” she choked out sadly.

 

“You all right?” Frank said, when she got home. He looked over the couch at her. His pit bull met her at the door. She rubbed Dog’s squarish head affectionately and his tail swished in delight.

“Nope,” Darcy said. “But I don’t wanna cry again about my love life or my family life.”

“Okay,” Frank said. “What if I just order you pizza and get you a little wasted? That a good plan?”

“Sure,” Darcy said.

 

She was two glasses of wine in and regaling Frank with “bad dad” stories when the pizza arrived. “He asked you if you wanted a fucking pony?” Frank said, dumbfounded.

“My grandparents--his parents--own land,” she explained. “He asked what kind of horse I’d want if he got me and my cousins one. I wanted a palomino,” she said. “He also wanted to take us to the state fair, a monster truck rally, lots of southern white trash stuff,” she joked. “Ta da! I’m an adult woman with absentee boyfriend issues.”

“Tell him to fuck off, Lewis,” Frank said. “Don’t waste your life on this guy. Or your fucking father. Both of ‘em.” He rubbed the top of his head. It was one of his emotional tics. Darcy sighed and looked at him. He made eye contact with her.

“What if I really love him, Frank?” she said. “Brock, I mean? That’s the problem. When he’s present, he’s very loving. He just can’t ever be here all that frequently.”

“Well, shit,” Frank said. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“No shit,” she said. “I think I need more pizza.”

“All right, more pizza,” he said, getting her the box. “I can handle more pizza.” He smiled at her when he sat back down and it was such a sweet, kind smile that she did something idiotic. Darcy leaned over and kissed him. She missed his lips slightly and left a streak of marinara next to his mouth. He blinked at her. She didn’t mean to stupidly hit on Frank, of course. He had his own problems: he’d lost his family and was trying to put his vigilante past behind him, be peaceful. Darcy was trying to be a friend. Her making a mistake was the last thing he needed.

“Shit, sorry,” she said. “Forget I did that. That was stupid. Sorry, sorry.” She waved her hand. “You don’t need me bringing the crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” he said, wiping his cheek sheepishly. “You kinda kiss like him, though.” He meant Dog.

“Shut up!” she said. He started to laugh.

She thought they had it handled, whatever tension there was between them, but two days later she decided on cereal for dinner when he bumped her in the kitchen. “Sorry,” they both said simultaneously.

“Lemme get that for you,” he said, reaching around her for the milk.

“Thanks,” she said, turning from the fridge to look at him. Their faces were very close. He leaned in slightly. For a second, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She leaned the rest of the way and their lips met softly. He tilted his head, sucking gently at her top lip.

“Frank, I don’t want to ask you to do something you don’t want to do--” she whispered. He was so close to her. He nuzzled her face.

“You’re not,” he said wryly. “C’mon, postpone your Cocoa Puffs.” Darcy laughed.

  
  
  


“What the fuck is this?” a voice said sharply. Darcy opened her eyes and shifted away from where she’d been resting on Frank’s shoulder. Brock was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She’d forgotten he had a key.

“Brock?” she croaked. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s your damn birthday in a week, I cashed in a few favors to get time off. Who is this motherfucker?” he said bluntly.

“This is Frank--”

“Frank Castle,” Frank said, opening his eyes and grimacing.

“Jesus fucking Christ, he’s the Punisher!” Brock said. “Have you lost your mind?”

“He knows who I am?” Frank said wryly.

“He’s a SHIELD agent,” Darcy explained.

“Can I have a fucking word?” Brock said grimly.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She slid out of bed, picking up her robe and putting it on. She heard Brock sigh.

“SHIELD agent, huh?” Frank said.

“I run STRIKE Alpha and do undercover work,” Brock said. “Legally.”

“Impressive.”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Stop,” Darcy said. She shooed Brock out of the room. They sat around the kitchen table. Brock licked his lips, started to say something, then paused. “Well?” she said.

“You don’t want to see me anymore?” he said. He’d put his hand on his jaw.

“When do I see you, exactly?” she said.

“As much as I can, I’m here--” he began.

“Which is not at all!”

“You’re angry,” he said. “You wouldn’t be angry if you didn’t care.”

“All right, fine. I wish we could work. But you’re gone all the time,” she said. “I need more than you just showing up whenever. Frank’s a friend. We’re both kinda lonely, okay? He’s been staying with me for a few weeks and---” She felt herself start to cry a little. He looked pained.

“Baby,” he said. “Don’t cry, shhh, it’s okay.” He came around and held her. “Look,” he said. “If this guy makes you happy, I can deal with it, all right?”

“Deal with it?” she said, confused.

“Split time with you,” he said. “At least you’d be safer with him around--”

“You think I can date both of you?” Darcy said in shock. Frank chose that moment to shuffle out of the bedroom.

“You’re gonna have a busy social calendar, Lewis,” he said. “I’m taking the dog out--”

“I’m serious,” Brock said, looking between them. “I can’t be here all the time, but you shouldn’t be alone if you don’t want to be.”

“Yeah, sure, you can handle it,” Frank said sarcastically.

“I can,” Brock insisted.

“Can you?” Darcy said to Frank. He tilted his head quizzically.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. Then he whistled for the dog and left the apartment.  

“You’re considering it?” Brock said, sounding pleased. His expression was hopeful.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “But what about logistics?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Brock said reassuringly. “Make a plan. Come sit with me, I’ve missed you,” he said, kissing her. She nodded. She didn’t want to give him up.

They were snuggling on the couch and making out when Frank and Dog returned. He looked at them. “It’s not like we don’t talk about Maria all the damn time,” he said. Then he walked into Darcy’s bedroom. “I’m taking a shower,” he called out.

“What’s that mean?” Brock said.

“It means yes,” Darcy said. “I think.”

  
  


“You’re going to live with both of them?” Jane said, shocked, when Darcy explained what was going on.

“Yes,” Darcy said. “Whenever Brock is in town.”

“And how is that going to work?”

“Right now, we’re discussing me spending the night with each of them in rotation. Equal time,” Darcy explained. “Sort of like these Nepalese polyandry wives I read about online.”

“Okay,” Jane said. “And you think that will go okay?”

“I mean, eventually, there will be a disagreement or major conflict? But right now, they’re getting along. They went to the gym together and watched basketball yesterday.”

“Okay,” Jane repeated.

“I think they could be friends, if not more,” she said. “You know Brock flirts with cute men like crazy sometimes. I don’t think it really bothers him if I'm with somebody else, as long as he gets attention. Frank is maybe more traditional.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. “So, dating two guys who are murdery at the same time won’t come back to bite you?”

“No.”

“No?”

"I'm not ready for this to come back and bite me,” Darcy confessed.

“Who would be?” Jane said. "Sif, maybe." She looked thoughtful. "But she has those dagger things."

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I know it will--maybe--but what if I want to try anyway?” She looked at Jane.

“Just don’t get shot in some sort of friendly-fire dispute over who has sex night,” Jane said, nodding.

“Jane!”

“Or stabbed.”

  
  
  


“This is nice, thank you,” Darcy said, curling into Brock’s embrace. “You’re being very open-minded.”

“It’s not a problem,” Brock said smugly. “I’m not one of those guys who gets threatened easily.” On her other side, Frank scoffed audibly.

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “I saw your face when she said she wanted to nap with both of us.”

“Shhh,” Darcy said. “It’s my birthday nap time.” She closed her eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” Frank said. “I’m not having sex with him, though.”

“Yeah, right,” Brock said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Frank said.

“I see you,” Brock said.  _“Hey, Brock, can I borrow your gun sight? Hey, Brock, who’s your trainer?”_

“Why do you need his gun sight?” Darcy said, concerned. “Are you slipping?” Frank wasn’t supposed to shoot anyone.

“No,” Frank said. “I was just making conversation! He bragged that it sees through walls--oof,” he said. Frank’s sentence was cut off by the arrival of Dog, who landed on them.

“There’s my  _favorite_  favorite guy,” Darcy said, delighted.

“Conversation?” Brock said, picking up his head. He looked skeptical. “You were totally looking at my ass, I saw you.”

“Nobody looks at your ass.”

“Everybody looks at my ass. It’s a good ass. Baby, tell him,” Brock said. Darcy was too busy being kissed by Dog to respond.

“Mmmpflayht nicefff,” she said. “Dog kisses! Ahhhh!”

“What’d she say?”

“Play nice,” Brock said, smirking.

“I have the dog who is her actual favorite,” Frank said. “You shouldn’t forget that, asshole.”

“He totally wants to have sex with us,” Brock whispered in her ear, chuckling.

“I heard that!” Frank said.

“You two bicker like an old married couple,” Darcy said, as Dog rolled over on his side and wiggled across her body. “Should Dog and I leave the room, let you work this out with a heavy makeout session or something?”

“Sure,” Brock said cheerfully. Frank raised an eyebrow at him. “Whoops,” Brock said, pretending to be abashed. “Someone’s not ready.”

“I probably should have warned you that he has very bisexual energy sometimes,” she said to Frank.  

“Uh-huh,” Frank said.

“I won’t hurt you, don’t worry,” Brock said.

“I know you won’t,” Frank said.

“I don’t like threats of violence at nap time,” Darcy said, wiggling.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Brock said. He looked at Frank over her shoulder as he looped an arm around Darcy. “I’m a very open-minded guy. No hang ups. Keeps me young.”

“I heard you were like eighty,” Frank muttered.

“You been asking around about me, Castle?” Brock asked.

“Not like that.” Frank looked at the ceiling, shifted. “Besides, if we’re gonna sleep with anybody together, it would be someone like Curtis,” he said.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “That’s your type?”

“I dunno, I never thought about it,” Frank said.

“Never?” Darcy said.

“Maybe a little,” Frank admitted. “But I can tell you my type isn’t guys with that many goddamned hair products, all over the bathroom--” He pointed at Brock.

“That’s hurtful,” Brock said. He looked at Darcy. “Is Curtis better-looking than me?”

“He’s pretty cute, but he seems more like a monogamy guy to me. Very reliable,” Darcy said. “You wouldn’t pick Karen?” she asked Frank.

“Who’s Karen?” Brock said.

“His sorta girlfriend,” Darcy said.

“She’s not--”

“She’s not?” Brock said.

“They have a thing,” Darcy said. “It’s very emotionally-intense, an emotional bond.” Frank nodded.

“Huh,” Brock said.

“It’s complicated,” Frank said. “Anyway, I can’t see Karen being into this.”

“Hey!” Darcy said. “This better not mean me.”

“I’m sure Karen would sleep with you, whoever she is,” Brock said, snuggling her closer. “You’re very comfy.” He sighed.

“Why does he even leave?” Frank mused. “All he does is paw at you all the time.”

“I gotta work,” Brock grumbled from behind Darcy’s hair. “Get in on this if you feel neglected, asshole.” Dog had settled at the foot of the bed, so Frank scooted closer to Darcy.

“Spends all his money on hair shit and gym memberships,” Frank muttered. “Like somebody from  _Jersey Shore.”_

“Hey, that crosses a line,” Brock said. “I am not from Jersey.”

“Ha ha,” Frank said.

“Will you two shut up? I’m beginning to have my doubts about this arrangement,” Darcy said, eyes closed.

“You’re totally breaking up with him, right?” Brock said.

“No, I’m taking the dog and leaving both you assholes for Karen,” Darcy snarked. “She understands naps mean quiet.”


	2. Not My Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Minor Punisher S1 spoilers.

Darcy stretched in bed, feeling the warmth of Frank’s body against hers. She was wedged between his sturdy back and a snuggly Dog. She peered over at the pit bull. His eyes watched her brightly. “Hey, buddy,” she said. He chose that second to launch one of his kamikaze kissing attacks. Darcy was laughing when Frank woke up.

“What’s he doing?” he said sleepily. Darcy turned her head slightly as Frank shifted.

“Being adorable,” Darcy said, laughing around the slobbery kisses. Frank smiled.

“Learned that from me,” he said.

“I bet so,” Darcy said. They had been alone for a week. Brock was off on a mission. She was slightly concerned about how things would shift when Brock came back. Darcy and Frank had an easy chemistry when it was just the two of them. He razzed her gently about her tendency to get into improbable accidents (Darcy swore than other people tripped over invisible items and skated across Jane’s lab floor, he was just well-coordinated and didn’t know), they took Dog to the park, she convinced him to try a hole-in-the-wall DC rib place (“this isn’t bad, Lewis”) and listened to his complaints about fancy coffee (“who wants coffee that tastes like goddamn cotton candy?” “Me. Also, you stole that bit from Denis Leary, Frank.” “Shit, you busted me, huh?”) and hipsters.

He pretended to be cantankerous like an old man. It was hella cute. Things were really good. Darcy felt weirdly comfortable. It wasn’t a passionate, crazy can’t-keep-my-hands-off-you relationship like she had with Brock, but she and Frank had always gotten along well as friends. She’d met him through Foggy Nelson, her old classmate at Culver. Foggy had been Frank’s lawyer once. Frank had discovered his family had been murdered to cover up a military drug trafficking operation and basically acted as a state’s witness and eventually been quietly pardoned for his vigilantism. Foggy had told her that a trial of the Punisher that revealed high-ranking officials had smuggled heroin in the bodies of dead US soldiers would have caused an international scandal. Darcy didn’t push for too many details from Frank. When Frank relocated to DC to put some distance between himself and a now-engaged Karen, he’d asked if she would keep Dog sometimes. Darcy had been so down over Rumlow being MIA, she’d invited Frank to crash with her, too. She didn’t want anything to jeopardize that friendship. The sex was pretty great, but mostly, she was happy to have him around for company. She was careful never to refer to herself as his girlfriend, only his roommate. She didn’t think Frank was ready for that yet. She was absurdly grateful to him. After years with Jane and Thor, Darcy wallowed when she was alone too much. She got in bad places about Brock being gone, worried he was hurt, worried more that he just didn’t love her at all. Frank had a gift for shaking her out of funks. Now they were close enough that she could get him to talk about his late wife and kids without Frank needing to disappear for a few days afterwards. 

“You want breakfast?” she asked him. 

“Sure,” Frank said, rubbing his face. He had pillow marks on his cheek. She leaned over and kissed him. “What are you so happy about? It’s too early in the morning for you to be happy, Lewis,” he said wryly. She wasn’t a morning person.

“I’m very happy with you around,” she said.

“Yeah?” he said. “You’re happy?” He looked pleased.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, nodding and nuzzling him. “Can we fool around before breakfast then?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for her pajama bottoms. They fumbled out of their clothes, laughing and shooing Dog away, until both of them were naked. He was heavy and warm on top of her. Darcy dotted kisses along Frank’s broad shoulders. She was careful not to disturb the chain that held his wedding band. He seemed unusually affectionate, kissing her and sliding his hand between her legs. He wasn’t usually so tender in the mornings.

“Mmm,” she said, as he thumbed gently at her clit. She wiggled for a better angle and he huffed out a laugh. “What?” she said.

“You look a little crazy. You got, like, hair everywhere,” he said, but didn’t stop touching her, so she was torn between pleasure and irritation.

“Shut up--but oh, don’t stop doing that,” she moaned. He kissed her again and kept using his fingers to stroke her until she came with an oddly intense sound.

“What the fuck was that, huh? You sounded like a tea kettle,” Frank said, laughing.

“Bite me,” she muttered. He was still aroused. “Now you,” Darcy said. She reached for the condoms in her nightstand, then handed one to him. She’d expected him to be eager, since he’d been waiting. But Frank looked at her warmly, then leaned in for a gentle kiss.

“That’s nice,” she said, practically purring.

“I’m not always nice, Lewis,” he teased. He put on the condom.

“You want to show me not nice?” she said, reaching down to touch his dick. He groaned slightly. Frank was larger than anybody she’d ever been with, but he seemed totally unconscious of his physical appeal. He didn’t brag about his cock or his muscles, as dazzling as they were. She felt slightly uncertain of what he wanted--she knew exactly what Brock liked, but Frank’s needs were mysterious. He grinned, then dragged his flattened nose again her cheek.

“Dunno, I could make you squeal like a tea kettle again,” he said. "Or I could really fuck you."

“Yeah?” Darcy said, blushing and grinning at the same time. He’d never talked to her like that. He was normally more playful, not intense.

“You want that?” His eyes were locked on her face. She nodded, biting her lip.

“Absolutely,” she said. That permission seemed to set off something within him. His eyes lit up. Hands gripped her body with a bruising intensity, pinning her in place. “Jesus, Frank,” she stuttered as he settled on top of her.

“You nervous?” he said. She felt like he was teasing her. He confirmed it by rolling his hips, bumping her a fraction. “Maybe you’re not ready?”

“I can handle you,” she insisted.

He fucked her so furiously, she couldn’t actually talk. She clung to his shoulders,her thighs bracketing his hips, as he slammed into her again and again. “Fuck,” she murmured.

“Thought you could handle this?” he said..

“Shut up,” she hissed, hands clenching around his back. He kept going, pushing her over an edge she didn’t know was possible. Her thighs shook and she felt like she’d blacked out for a second, vision swimming. He grunted when he came, pushing into her a final time with a shudder. Then he started to chuckle again. “You’re in a good mood,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said.

 

Afterwards, they were snuggling when she looked at him. “Do you have to work today?” Frank was doing surveillance work for PI who specialized in divorce cases and trying to start over peaceably. Dog was rolling around at the foot of the bed.

“I gotta go to Arlington, yeah,” he said. She sat up, smiling.

“Okay, I’m going to start eggs. You want eggs, too?” Darcy asked Dog. His tail thumped wildly and he almost took out the stuff on her nightstand.

“Cut it out,” Frank said, patting the dog affectionately. Darcy went to the bathroom and Frank took Dog out for a walk. She was in the kitchen when they came back, scrambling eggs and humming to herself. The coffee maker brewed.

“Do you want cheddar?”

“I’ll get it.” He went to the fridge. “You look cute in my shirt,” Frank told her. She’d stolen one of his shabby hoodies because it was comfy and smelled like him.

“I do,” she said, grinning. “Hey, did you want to see a movie or something after work?”

“Sure,” he said. “Just not one of your kid’s movies. I haven’t watched this many cartoon dogs since Lisa was three.”

“Excuse me, cartoon dogs are fun,” she sassed back. “Besides, the dog usually dies in the live action dog movies.”

“Well, I ain’t watching that,” Frank said. 

 

They were coming out of the theater that night when they came face to face with one of the guys from SHIELD’s STRIKE Foxtrot. “Hey, Lewis,” he said to Darcy. She sort of froze.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly. She felt weirdly self-conscious. She didn’t know what Brock was telling people at work. Unfortunately, Frank stopped politely and nodded at the guy.

“Hernandez,” he told Frank. “You’re the other guy? Jody, huh?” Darcy realized Frank had gone blank-faced.

“Frank Castle,” he said quietly. Hernandez looked slightly nervous then. “Nice to meet you,” Frank said grimly, then towed Darcy out of the theater at a clip. His good mood had evaporated, but she didn’t understand why. It was damp and rainy outside the theater and he hustled her to the car.

“What was that about?” she asked, buckling her seatbelt.

“It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing,” Darcy said. Frank drove silently. “Frank, tell me what just happened.” Frank huffed out a sigh. They stopped at a red light. He rubbed his hair roughly.

“A jody is the piece of shit who fucks your wife when you’re gone on deployment,” he said. The words hit her like a blow. Darcy’s chest hurt suddenly. She was quiet until the pain stopped and she could breathe normally again.

“What an asshole,” she said. “Turn the damn car around, Frank,” she said.

“What, so you can tase him?”

“Maybe,” she said, feeling like she wanted to lash out, push the hurt back at Hernandez. Frank chuckled.

“Yeah, no,” he said.

“Why not?”

“One, they don’t let you in without a ticket and movies are goddamned expensive; two, I’m supposed to be giving up vigilante shit, remember? Three, Rumlow would be upset if I let you get arrested, he mentioned that before he left,” he said in a wry voice.

“I can’t believe--” she began, but then surprised herself by starting to cry.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“You think he’s saying you’re a piece of shit? What does that make me?” she asked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m the office tramp cheating on Rumlow.”

“You’re not the office tramp,” Frank said.

“Don’t sugarcoat, Frank, I saw your face,” she said.

“Yeah, so? Rumlow offered you this, remember? Or did I not walk into a conversation where he was the one bringing up this poly shit?” Frank said in a blunt voice. Darcy flinched. “Sorry,” he said.

“Do you hate this?” she asked.

“It’s all right,” he said.

“Really?”

“Well, look, it’s fucking weird to know you’re with somebody else in the next room when he’s here, but if it works for you, then fuck what anybody thinks. Love is love.”

“Love is love?” Darcy said incredulously. Since when did Frank say that?

“You love him, right?” he asked. The traffic lights were blurry through the raindrops on her window.

“Yeah,” she said dully. She’d realized she felt mortified for Brock as well as herself. “I do. Do you think I’m a bad person?” she asked quietly. “That I can’t stay faithful?”

“Stay faithful?” Frank said.

“Your wife did,” she pointed out. “You were gone a lot, too.”  

“Yeah,” Frank said, taking a turn. “But we were married. We had kids and, uh, she had plenty to occupy her time. Who knows if she ever thought about somebody else?”

“What?” Darcy said. He’d described it matter-of-factly. To her surprise, he pulled off the road and looked at her.

“She had a full-time job and school pick up and homework and doing laundry for three people and shit,” Frank said. “If we’d just been dating, maybe shit would have been different if we hadn’t had Lisa so soon, but she was too busy to want to wash another man’s socks.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. She didn’t quite follow Frank’s logic. “But you were in love,” she pointed out. “She was in love with you.”

“Yeah, and I took her for granted sometimes,” he said in a low voice. He looked away. “I was off in this world with my buddies, overseas, you know?”

“You were in a war zone.”

“But you know what? You don’t gotta worry about cooking or figuring out how the fuck they’re teaching the kids math now in a war,” he said. “You got one job. She had, like, twenty different goddamn jobs. And every year, that shit gets harder, because everything costs more money and the kids want to keep up with their friends and they do the weirdest shit with the math problems. Maybe she wouldn’t have minded another man around to cut the grass, run some errands,” he said. “I don’t even know when she learned to use the mower, she just did while I was gone.” He went quiet. “She took on all this shit by herself, still thought about me, what I needed, didn’t give me shit when I pulled away or couldn’t get off the couch. She got me Springsteen tickets.”

“Yeah?” she said.

“I came back sometimes, didn’t even feel like touching her,” he said. “Didn’t even fucking occur to me to wonder how that made her feel.”  Darcy heard his voice break. “I sat around, feeling shitty and taking it out on them,” he said. Darcy rubbed his arm.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“Maybe she would have appreciated another boyfriend,” he said, blinking. ”I don’t fucking know. I wasn’t smart enough to ask.” They were both quiet before he spoke again. “That fucker back there, he doesn’t know what you need, either. So don’t internalize his bullshit.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. He pulled the car back onto the road. “I still feel guilty, though. I don’t even know what Brock and I are doing sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, being in love with somebody makes you feel shitty a lot of the time,” he said dryly.

Darcy snorted. She was in love with Rumlow. But his feelings were sometimes a mystery. Did Brock feel as intensely about her as she felt about him? She looked at Frank as a thought occurred to her.

“He must’ve told people about us, people at work. I didn’t say anything. What does that mean?” she wondered out loud.

“No fucking clue,” Frank said. “Ask Jane, that’s a women’s conversation, trying to figure out what the fuck a man’s thinking,” he joked.

“What are you thinking, usually?”

“Sex, food, or the NFL draft, probably,” he said, grinning.

“Ha ha,” she said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, writing poly relationship feels and backstories for this has been so weirdly difficult, like, oh, these characters and their painful histories and their feelings. So much feeling!


	3. Party of Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!

They were sitting on the couch the next afternoon when Rumlow came home unexpectedly. They both heard the key in the door and turned to look. “Hey,” he said. He was carrying his bags and stopped to scratch Dog’s ears.

“You’re back early,” Darcy said, delighted, turning around to reach for him.

“Daddy’s home,” he said. He kissed Darcy over the back of the couch and then squeezed Frank’s shoulder. “You give Castle trouble, sweetheart?”

“No,” Darcy said, “I didn’t. Did I?” She looked at Frank. They’d decided not to mention the Jody incident to him. No need to cause a work fight, distract him. Frank had told her that he thought it was easier if you didn’t have that shit on your mind in the field.

“Maybe a little,” Frank said wryly. “Mostly, all your snoring,” he joked. Brock laughed.

“She refuses to admit it. You wanna get dinner?” Brock asked. “I’m gonna call that place you like, Rosetti’s?”

“Um, sure?” Darcy said. He grabbed the phone and headed into the bedroom to drop his bags. They always spent the first night he was home together. She looked at Frank. He’d turned his face back to the television. Frank looked uncomfortable, Darcy thought. She was torn: She didn’t want Frank to feel badly. And Rosetti’s was a special occasion sort of place, that Brock usually took her because he was in a good mood, affectionate. She was going to go to the other room to say something to Brock about staying home and not having Frank feel left out when Brock walked back in. “Party of three,” he was telling someone on the phone.” She smiled. She was relieved that he didn’t want to exclude Frank.

“Don’t let me interrupt your night,” Frank began. Brock waved dismissively before he hung up.

“You’re not. You got a decent jacket, though, right? Not just those fucking hoodies?” Brock said teasingly. He’d moved over to rub Darcy’s shoulders and was being touchy-feely. “This is a nice place.”

“I got clothes, asshole,” Frank said. “I’ll go change.”

“Don’t worry about outshining me, it’ll never happen,” Brock said. Darcy swatted at him, concerned he was hurting Frank’s feelings.

“Be nice,” she said.

“I am nice,” he said. Brock smirked, then pulled Darcy closer, licking his lips. She tried to look at Frank as Brock eased his tongue into her mouth, but he was already disappearing into her bedroom for his clothes. And she was easily distracted whenever Brock was present. She’d never quite understood how he pulled her attention, wherever they were, made it impossible for Darcy to focus on anyone else. When they stopped kissing, she looked at him. He was looking at her intently. “I missed you,” Brock said. It made her heart tighten.

“I really missed you,” she said, leaning against him.

“Yeah?”

“I always miss you. But I want to make sure Frank is comfortable, too. This is difficult,” she said.

“Nah,” Brock said. He seemed breezier than she felt. “It’ll get easier the more things we do together.”

“You think so?” Darcy said hopefully. He nodded.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling her close again.

Still, Darcy thought, she needed to make sure Frank didn’t feel like she dropped him whenever Brock was here. It always sucked when your friends who had boyfriends ignored you like that, right?

 

 

***

Was he on a goddamn date, Frank wondered? He was at a fancy restaurant with Darcy—and Darcy’s boyfriend. Maria would laugh her ass off at him. Darcy kept touching him, too. Her hand was resting on his thigh. It was fucking confusing. Shouldn’t she be all over Rumlow? Across the circular table, Rumlow smiled at him. What the fuck was that for? He could tolerate Rumlow--be open-minded, reasonable--when the other man wasn’t around. Rumlow as Darcy’s theoretical boyfriend wasn’t a problem. Anyone could see that their relationship was significant, see that Darcy needed him, that she was completely infatuated with him. But Brock Rumlow as a person? Still got under Frank’s goddamned skin. He was a haughty-faced, too-knowing SHIELD asshole with a smug smirk.

Trust goddamned Rumlow to pick somewhere fancy with low lighting and ambience. He was a fancy guy, Frank thought dismissively. He’d seen the twenty-five dollar price tags on Rumlow’s hair products, all the cologne in the bathroom. As bad as Bill Russo when it came to all his grooming routines, probably. Bill would have loved this restaurant; nothing was under forty dollars. Bill had been fancy like that, too. Had wanted that life. The thought was strangely distracting.

How had he and Bill become friends in the first place, Frank wondered? How had he not seen that Russo’s veneer of charm was just an illusion? But Frank would have said he loved Bill like a brother and that Bill loved him. He had been godfather to both of Frank’s children. And then stood by and done nothing to prevent them being murdered. Frank couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Bill had wanted to help Frank fight his way out of that ambush in Afghanistan--Frank had been certain he would die, but that the rest of them could have a chance to escape--and Bill hadn’t wanted him to die alone. Nothing about their relationship squared to Frank. If you loved somebody enough to die with ‘em, why didn’t you realize that killing their children was another kind of death? Bill had broken him, destroyed his life, and seemed not to even realize what he’d done. Now Frank was rebuilding slowly, trailing people who cheated on their wives for divorce cases, walking the dog, in this strange relationship of convenience and casual affection with Darcy. Darcy who had a traveling boyfriend and knew Asgardians. Frank cared about Darcy, of course, but this wasn't the life he'd planned. He was frowning when Darcy said his name.

“Frank?” Darcy said in is ear. “You want wine?” Frank looked up at her, then Rumlow. Frank had to shake off his past. The other man was asking the waiter about wine. “I want rosé,” Darcy announced. The waiter frowned. Clearly, that was a faux pas or some shit.

“We have a house wine,” he offered. Darcy smiled brightly at him.

“She loves rosé,” Rumlow said, as if he expected Frank to joke about it. Frank decided to take him by surprise.

“It’s good shit,” Frank said. “Nothing wrong with a good rosé. You know, I think I’ll have some, too.” He gave the waiter a look. Enough of this fancy bullshit. Rumlow looked at him, then turned to the waiter.

“We’re all having the rosé,” Rumlow said, expression unreadable.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you intimidating the wait staff, Castle?” Rumlow asked, when the man left the table.

“Frank supports me in this,” Darcy said. “He understands my love of cheap wine and Trader Joe’s,” she joked.

“Nothing wrong with it,” Frank said. He looked at Rumlow. “I’m not a snob.”

“Yeah?” Rumlow said. He was smirking again. “There’s two of you now, huh?” He tilted his head and raked a hand through his hair. “I can live with your love of Sutter Home, I just don’t want to go to goddamned Dollywood on vacation, all right?”

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” Darcy said. The waiter brought their wine, setting the rosé bottle between Frank and Darcy. Frank looked at him, as he did that tasting pour thing they taught people in bullshit restaurants.

“You can pour me a whole fucking glass,” he said wryly. “I’m an adult.”

“Jesus,” Rumlow muttered. He started to laugh. “Two of them.”

“I said the same thing the first time we came here,” Darcy said to Frank. He nodded, grinning, and picked up his wine glass. Looked at Rumlow.

“Dolly Parton is a goddamn national treasure,” Frank said.

“I left you alone together too long,” Rumlow said wryly. “Now you’re just fucking with me, both of you.”

 

They were having dinner when Darcy got up to go the ladies room and left them alone. Rumlow’s happy expression went slightly more muted. “She doing okay?” he asked.

“You’re asking me?” Frank said.

“Yeah, I am.”

“You could ask her what she needs,” Frank suggested. He sawed at his steak.

“Don’t be an asshole, Castle, you know what I mean. I want her to be happy. She downplays it when she’s unhappy.”

“She misses you, asshole. God knows why, I think you’re kind of pretentious,” Frank said. He chewed a purposefully-large chunk of steak.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a fancy guy,” Frank said, still chewing.

“I’m from the Bronx, you fucker. I grew up in a third floor walk up and went to public school, but God fucking forbid I take care of myself so I can work or want to take my girl someplace nice,” Rumlow said.

“Uh-huh,” Frank said. “That why you got all those gym subscriptions? For her?”

“I’m trying to keep up with supersoldiers they thawed out of the ice last week,” Rumlow said. “I’m the only agent my fucking age still working, all right?”

“Sure,” Frank said.

“I don’t see you minding that I’m picking up the check,” Rumlow said.

“The fuck you are, I pay my own way,” Frank insisted.

“Too fucking late, they already have my card,” Rumlow said dryly. They looked at each other. Rumlow moved his eyes around the room, then looked at Frank intently. “I worked hard for this, all right? Learning how to carry myself, how to behave, like I belonged anywhere, motherfucker.”

“And this is somewhere you want to belong?” Frank said.

“No,” Rumlow said, then paused, shook his head. “It’s a fucking skill, all right? I can blend in anywhere. It’s for work.”

“Tough life,” Frank cracked. “I coulda used those skills in a tent near the Afghan border.”

“Shut up, asshole, I’m going somewhere with this,” he said. “I want to take Darcy to Mexico for a vacation, you think that would make her happy?”

“Yeah,” Frank admitted. “Real happy. She’s happy whenever you do anything for her.”

“Good,” Rumlow said. He looked relieved. “I talked to Thor and Jane, they’ll watch your dog.”

“Excuse me?” Frank said.  

“You’re coming, too. Did you think I would just leave you? She'd feel bad,” Rumlow said. He looked up. “She’s coming back,” he said. Darcy was crossing the restaurant. “Just get your passport sorted, I’m handling everything.”

“This is fucking crazy,” Frank said. “You’re insane.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I haven't watched S2 of the Punisher yet, but one of my big questions is how Frank processes Billy's betrayal, what he thinks of it. I felt like Brock--even a triple agent Good!Brock--would bring that up for Frank, since Brock is so handsome and sarcastic and carries himself so smoothly in canon and that might bring up things for Frank. 
> 
> Also, ever notice how Frank calls him Bill, not Billy? I don't think anybody else does. It almost functions as a special nickname between them.


	4. Equally Matched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos. Since this is a semi-angsty fic with feelings and my first OT3 story, it's been more challenging for me. I appreciate all of them!

Rumlow swung at him with full force and Frank blocked the blow. They were boxing. Frank pushed back, arms still up. Frank tried to clip his chin and Rumlow dodged, aiming a punch to his abdomen. It connected with force. “Did that hurt?” Rumlow cracked, when Frank grunted.

“Fuck you. I’m gonna kick your ass, Rumlow,” Frank said, huffing the words out around the pain. Rumlow had invited Frank to his boxing gym. Frank had gone, not because he liked spending time with Rumlow, but because it made Darcy happy to see them getting along. And they’d all been getting along reasonably well. Rumlow’s surprise trip was a few days away. Frank had his passport together and Thor had been delighted to watch Dog. Rumlow was going to surprise Darcy and the three of them were getting on a plane together. Everything was fine. Until last night.

The sounds of Darcy moaning with Brock from the bedroom had left Frank feeling on edge this morning. He was usually able to ignore the sounds that came from Darcy’s room when he slept in the spare bedroom. Mostly ignore. But last night had made him horny and frustrated. She’d been loud. He’d lain awake, imagining exactly what they were doing together, just feet away. He’d turned his wedding ring on it’s chain and wondered what the hell Maria would say about what his life was now, too. Then Darcy had been all bouncy and cute this morning. Frank had snapped at her a little and immediately regretted it when her face fell.

“You bothered, Frank?” Rumlow said, smirking and pulling his attention with a solid blow. Frank grunted.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know,” Rumlow said. “Why don’t you join us sometime, huh?” Frank flushed hotly. Under his headguard, he knew his ears were flaming. How the fuck did Rumlow know?

“Shut the fuck up,” he said. “You talk so much goddamn bullshit.”

“Where’s the lie?” Rumlow said, dodging him. The man was quick, for somebody with a decade on him. They dodged and hit. _Thwack-thwack-thwack._ Frank’s new shoes squeaked on the flooring. Rumlow's abs gleamed with sweat.

“No man--” Frank said, dodging a blow and sending sweat flying. “No man actually wants to share,” he said. Rumlow actually laughed at him. That made Frank a little pissed and he swung messily. Rumlow moved backwards. The movement was effortless. He raised his gloves and smirked. The sound of his footwork seemed unusually loud to Frank. _Squeak-squeak-squeak._

“Come on, man,” he told Frank. “You’re fundamentally misunderstanding the process, missing out. Also, that’s a little bit sexist.” He was smirking again.

“Uh-huh,” Frank said. They circled each other.

“It’s not like splitting a sandwich, asshole. It’s three people doing what nature intended. What, you can’t use your imagination?” Rumlow said. Frank felt his heartbeat in his ears.

“Fuck off,” he said.

“I do,” Rumlow said. “Frequently.” Frank huffed and swung. “Hoooo, somebody’s upset now!” Rumlow yelled. “You’re gonna win this one, huh?” He tilted his chin up for a second and the movement was like a taunt.

“I’m gonna win this one,” Frank said.

 

He did, but it felt like a pyrrhic victory. Rumlow’s grin at the end of the match was too pointed. It made Frank feel exposed, like his anxieties were projected across his forehead, obvious for the world to see. He wiped the sweat off his face. Rumlow had gone off to bullshsit with some of his boxing buddies. Frank walked outside to the parking lot and dialed. “Hey,” a female voice said. A warm, friendly voice.

“Hey, Karen,” he said. “It’s me.”

“I know who it is,” she said. “I’d recognized that voice anywhere, even behind a hobo beard.”

“Don’t knock my hobo beard,” Frank said. “It was a good beard.”

“Uh, no, it was not. How’s Dog?” she said.

“Good, real good,” he said, smiling.

“Darcy?”

“She’s great,” he said. “How are you?”

“Trying to keep my terrible mother in law from making a scene at my wedding, but otherwise good,” she said dryly.

“Wedding stuff, huh?”

“Invitation fonts are a nightmare I never knew I could have,” she said. “But you know.”

“Not really. It was just me and Maria,” he said. “Real simple, you know? Got married on base before I left for deployment,” he said. He exhaled. “They got, uh, chapels.” There was a moment of silence.

“So, you’re the one with the problem, huh?” she said. “Is this something about your dating life?” Karen knew about his situation with Darcy. And Rumlow. She and Darcy talked. They were friends. Frank didn’t mind Karen knowing some things. He didn’t know what things those were exactly. But probably, she knew them. Frank was okay with that.

“Kinda,” Frank admitted.

“So?”

“It’s nothing--”

“Frank, I usually hear from you on my birthday and when you’re half-dead. Please tell me the emergency,” she said.

“Do you, uh, think you can be attracted to two people at once?”

“Polyamorously?” she said archly.

“Shit,” Frank said. She knew about that. He paused. “Yeah, okay. Whatever the fucking hipsters are calling it.”

“Absolutely,” she said. “I’ve totally been into more than one person at once.” She was engaged to a fellow journalist now. She stressed the word totally.

“Did you date them both?”

“Well, technically,” Karen said, hesitating, Frank could hear her curling up her nose, maybe smiling. “I was going on regular dates, meeting you in diners, and seeing Matt--”

“Yeah,” Frank said.

“And there was that one date with Foggy,” she added.

“You dated both my lawyers, woman?” he said, incredulous. She laughed joyfully.

“The Foggy one was an accident! A client set that up as a surprise!” she said.

“Foggy,” Frank said.

“He went back to his law school girlfriend,” she said.

“He was a nice guy, I bet you wrecked him,” Frank said wryly.

“It wasn’t a big thing, we’re still friends,” she said. “I miss that client, though.”

“Something happen?”

“Fisk,” Karen said grimly. “Foggy and I were fixing up her apartment because Fisk was her slum landlord and she made us dinner.” Suddenly, Karen sounded sad. “Sometimes, I don’t know how we survived, Frank. Me or Foggy.”

“Yeah,” Frank said.

“Foggy’s okay, I think,” she said. “He got out.”

“Poor fella. You were running after me and Red”---Frank had discovered Matt’s secret, it had stunned him--”and totally overlooking the upstanding young lawyer?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Karen insisted. “Foggy’s nice, but--”

“He’s never been arrested?” Frank said wryly.

“Actually, he was arrested once, it was just for mooning Dick Cheney and calling him a war criminal. The university dropped the charges.”

“You’re shitting me,” Frank said, laughing. “I should really have gotten to know him better.”

“He went to undergrad with Darcy,” Karen said.

“I know,” Frank said.

“So, you’re going to start dating her and Rumlow?” Karen suggested.

“What would you do?”

“Frank, you called me. If you wanted someone to discourage you from taking a risk, you would have called Curtis,” she said.

“Shit.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “You called me.”

“Danger magnet Karen Page,” he cracked affectionately.

“It’s not even like it’s dangerous, you’ve just got to figure out your sexual positions when there’s a third person,” she mused.

“Jesus Christ, Karen,” Frank said. “You know  I--” he paused.

“You what?”

“I care about you,” he said carefully, “but sometimes you say the craziest shit.” She laughed again.

“You like crazy women like us. Me and Darcy,” she told him. “And we love you.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. The timing had never quite worked out between him and Karen. By the time he’d realized that he was capable of caring again, not messing up her life, she had met someone else. Someone normal. Frank had been very careful not to disrupt that. He wanted Karen to be happy and safe more than he wanted Karen for himself. He had never thought about the similarities between Darcy and Karen, the way they had these strange lives, yet seemed to hang onto some kernel of weird tenderness.  

“But do you like men like him?” she asked, her voice light. There was a moment of silence. Frank looked over his shoulder. A shirtless Brock Rumlow was talking to some professional fighter. “Frank?” Karen said. “You there?”

“I’m here,” Frank said. “How many people were you dating at once again?” His voice was wry.

“You’re making me feel very judged right now,” Karen joked.

“How is Matt, by the way? I’m still not over that shit,” Frank said. He meant finding out that his blind lawyer was the vigilante who’d brought him in. “What the hell does he think he’s doing?” Karen made a noncommittal sound.

“You know Matt,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah. Altar boy has a definite martyr complex,” Frank said. Karen snorted.

“Says you.”

“Listen,” Frank said, lowering his voice, “if I was suddenly blinded, I’m gonna stay home, have my legal practice, not run around rooftops. I wasn’t even that crazy--”

“Sure,” Karen said. She laughed. “You are so full of shit, Frank.”

 

***

Darcy thought it was working fairly well. They had a sleeping schedule, Frank and Brock weren’t fighting, and she loved having Dog around. Her life was great. But why did she feel an odd pang of worry? Frank had snapped at her this morning. Frank never snapped. He was sardonic, but not snappy. Why? She asked him while they were making dinner. “Did I do something?”

“No,” he said. He was julienning vegetables. “We’re fine.”

“Did Brock do something?”

“No.”

“No?”

“We’re fine, too.”

“Okay,” Darcy said doubtfully. She put her arms around Frank and he relaxed.

“We’re gonna watch the Knicks game on Tuesday if he’s not working or out of town,” Frank told her, as if he’d been saving up this fact.

“Good,” Darcy said. She leaned gently against his back. “Never tell him I said this, but you have the cutest ass.” She squeezed him.

“Oh, yeah?” Frank grinned. “That’s cause his ass is too skinny. You need some fat for a good ass and he don’t got any. He’s got them little chicken legs, too.”

“Frank,” Darcy said scoldingly. “That’s a little mean.”

“You’re the one squeezing my ass like a juicer, sweetheart,” he said. “I just wanted to point out a salient variable or whatever Foster would call it.” She snorted.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” she asked.

“It’s his night,” Frank said.

“I know, but I feel like you and Dog cuddles, I’m all PMS-y,” Darcy said.

“I don’t want to take his night,” Frank was saying as Rumlow walked in.

“Take my night?”

“I want to snuggle with Frank and Dog tonight. No sex, I’m all bloated,” Darcy explained.

“He can have my night,” Rumlow said.

“I don’t want to steal your—” Frank began, when Rumlow cut in.

“What if we all sleep together?” he offered. “Like your birthday nap?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t push him--” Darcy said, but Frank responded quickly.

“I’m fine,” Frank said. “I can do this.” Darcy looked at him curiously.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Darcy whispered to Frank, as they were in bed. Brock was brushing his teeth.

“Yeah,” Frank said. He smiled. “Miss sleeping with you when he’s here.”

“Awww,” Darcy said. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him gently. They were still kissing when Brock came out of the bathroom. He stopped. Darcy didn’t realize he was there for a minute, head tilted. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t let me interrupt the love fest.”

“Don’t be a wiseass, Brock,” Darcy said. Frank snickered.

“You enjoyed that too much,” Brock said, climbing into bed with them.

“Reading glasses?” Frank said. Darcy elbowed him; he made fun of her glasses, too.

“Fuck you, Frank,” Brock said. He picked up his tablet and thumbed through it. Brock sighed.

“What?” Darcy said. She rolled over to face Brock more and Frank rubbed her lower back. Darcy wiggled with pleasure. She had back pain, the curse of the big boobed.

“Hernandez is giving me shit about field training schedules—what?” he said.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” Brock said intently.

“It’s not a big deal,” she said.

“What happened?” Brock repeated.

“We ran into Hernandez at the movies,” Frank said. “He called me a Jody.”

“Motherfucker,” Brock said. He reached for the phone and was up before Darcy could say anything to stop him. A few seconds later, he was pacing at the end of the bed. “Listen, you sonofabitch, if I ever fucking hear you’re saying shit to my people behind my back, I will shove my foot so far up your ass, you’re going to taste my toes, motherfucker,” he said, stomping out of the bedroom. Frank looked at Darcy.

“Did I fuck up?” he said.

“Possibly,” Darcy said. She heard a noise. “I think that was the fridge door slamming.” There was a volley of colorful swearing.

“Damn, he is from the Bronx, huh? Hmm.”

“Yup,” she said. “And you’re one of his people now.”

“I heard that,” Frank said.

“How do you feel about it?” she asked. Frank shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said. Darcy was pretty sure he was lying.

“Has he been flirting with you? Because I can talk to him—”

“No,” Frank said. “It’s fine.” Darcy definitely thought he was lying, but Brock came back into the room and she went quiet.

“Fucker,” he said. “Baby, I’m sorry, okay? So sorry.” He got back into bed, kissing her gently. “That’s not gonna happen again.” He kept nuzzling and kissing her until she pulled back. She had slipped a little and felt turned on. Brock grinned. He must’ve caught her guilty expression. “Sorry, Castle,” he added. “Don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s all right,” Frank said, rearranging his pillow. Darcy felt the need to change the subject. Also, she wanted to tell her ovaries to chill.

“Does everybody have enough pillows?” Darcy said brightly.

“What are you, the cruise director?” Frank said.

“Huh?”

“You did sound like one,” Brock said, chuckling.

“I do not appreciate you two ganging up on me like this,” Darcy said.

“Not the ganging up you were hoping for?” Brock said. Frank started to laugh.

“Shut up,” Darcy squeaked. She turned so she wasn’t facing him in a huff.

 

She had fallen asleep and then woke up all hot and bothered at three am. She was wiggling when Brock woke up. “Hey,” he said in a throaty voice. She snuggled closer and he grinned. He put his hands under her pajamas.

“Oh God,” Darcy whispered. Frank was still asleep. “We shouldn’t, Frank will hear—”

“He’s out. We’ll be quiet.” His hands were eager. The drag of his palms against Darcy’s nipples felt incredible. She arched against Brock reflexively, moaning.

“Uhhhh.”

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for her condom stash. They tried to have sex without making too much noise or waking Frank. She could tell Brock was trying. She muffled her own moans by pressing her face against his neck. Trying to be quiet was weirdly intense and made her feel more turned on, not less. It was a nervous reaction, but she was wet and tense simultaneously.

“You feel good,” Brock whispered, groaning. He moved in and out of her slowly. The only sounds were their muffled breathing and the slap of their bodies. She sucked on his neck, trying to release some of the anxiety of trying to be quiet. He sped up, moving so the mattress moved. Darcy rolled her eyes over to Frank. He was still asleep. She turned back to concentrate on Brock.

“More,” Darcy whispered. She needed more sensation.

“Roll over?” he said hoarsely. They separated with a squelch, fumbling until Darcy was on her knees, face on the pillows. He pushed into her again and she touched herself. Frank was just inches from them, she thought. Brock snapped his hips and she groaned into the pillow. If he heard them and woke up—

“He’s gonna wake up,” Darcy said urgently.

“You want that, don’t you, baby?” Brock asked. “How often have you thought about both of us touching you, huh? Fucking you?”

“Oh God, shut up,” Darcy said. The thought was so erotic, she felt like she couldn’t be quiet if he kept talking about it. He laughed.

“Did you just want him to watch, huh?” Brock was close, she could tell. “Or did you want both of us inside you?” His tone was seductive. He knew, she realized. He knew she wanted both of them.

“Uhhh,” Darcy moaned, climaxing with a violent jerk at the sound of his voice. Her body trembled. She’d squeezed her eyes shut.  Brock thrust into her raggedly and came with an animalistic grunt. She knew they’d woken Frank. There was no way he could sleep through that. She glanced over anxiously.

“He’s still asleep,” Brock said. They struggled to move quietly to lay down. Darcy sighed with a mixture of relief and sadness. She was slightly ashamed of herself. She cuddled Brock.

“I love you, but we shouldn’t have, not when I promised no sex,” Darcy said. “That was wrong.” He scoffed.

“But it felt so right,” he cracked. He was smirking at her. “Come closer, baby.”

“Yeah. You’re not upset that he’s here, are you?”

“No,” Brock said. “I might enjoy it.” He chuckled.

“Shhh,” Darcy said. She’d felt Frank move. She looked over her shoulder. His eyes were closed. She sighed and rested her head on Brock’s chest. “That was close,” Darcy said.

“You were close,” he teased.

“Shut up.”

“You people are fucked up,” Frank said suddenly. Darcy turned. His eyes were still closed.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. He grinned and opened his eyes.

“Uh huh.”

“She is, I’m not,” Brock said.

“I better not wake up in the goddamn wet spot,” Frank said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, oh, another note! When I've been getting stuck on this one, I stop for pretty pics and snacks. Like this, which is Jon Bernthal looking so good in a pair of weird pants in "Grudge Match" that it ought to be a crime: https://yespumpkindoodlesthings.tumblr.com/post/185763361168
> 
> Are they casual dress pants? Fancy sweats? Nobody knows.


	5. Are We A Throuple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

“Are you okay?” Darcy said, pushing the door to the spare bedroom open. She’d just gotten out of the shower. Frank was sitting on the bed with Dog, checking his phone. Brock had left for his first round at the gym. “I was worried you were upset,” she said, as he looked up. She saw his passport on the dresser. “I am so sorry, Frank. I know last night was a mistake--” she said. He looked at her with an incredulous expression.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he said, setting down his phone

“Last night, I know that was coercive and wrong and I apologize,” Darcy stuttered out. She was panicking. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she said.

“Say what now?” he said. His eyes moved to the dresser. “Oh shit, you weren’t supposed to see this.”

“Oh God, I feel so horrible,” Darcy said. “I’m a terrible person.” She was startled when he began to laugh.

“Sit down,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere, all right?”

“Really?” Darcy said, unable to keep the happiness out of her voice.

“Nope, not without you at least. Rumlow made me get my passport in order, so the three of us can go on a trip,” he said. “I’m spoiling the goddamn surprise. He’s gonna kick my ass.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Oh.”

“You had coffee yet?” he said. “You’re all messed up before coffee. C’mon.” He stood up, yawning.

“You don’t think we sexually, like, assaulted you, do you?” Darcy said, as she followed him out to the kitchen. Frank looked at her like she was completely insane.

“What?”

“Some people might say that’s like a sex crime or something, having sex next to a sleeping person,” she said. He snorted.

“I’m a fucking adult, Lewis, you and Rumlow can fool around in the bed next to me,” he said. “You think I don’t know you’re having sex? I hear you,” he added.

“Okay,” she said. He poured coffee. Darcy opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t know how to say this. “I think Brock really wants you to like him,” she said. “If not romantically, then as a good friend--”

“Gee, you think so?” Frank said. “All the other times a man has taken me to Mexico, it’s because he’s hated my guts.”

“We’re going to Mexico?” Darcy said. She’d always wanted to go somewhere warm and romantic.

“Fuck,” Frank said. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Mexico,” she said.

“Yeah, he wants you to like him, too,” Frank said. They drank coffee quietly. Darcy’s heart was beating faster. She’d just realized something.

“How--how much did you hear last night?” she asked. Had he heard Brock tease her about wanting both of them. Frank shrugged.

“Not much,” he said. She waited for him to say something else. He didn’t.

“How do you feel about the trip?” Darcy asked finally.

“Seems like a nice trip.”

“Frank,” she said. “Please be honest with me.”

“If you want me to climb into bed with you and him, just fucking say so, Lewis. I will,” he said.

“But I want you to want this,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.” He shrugged again.

“You think somebody can pressure me? Me?” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like enthusiastic consent,” Darcy said, worried. She nibbled at her lip anxiously. He looked away, then looked at her wryly.

“Lewis, I’m a man, we can’t fake orgasms,” he said. “If I’m fucking you or him, you’ve got my enthusiastic consent. I’m taking Dog for a walk.” He called Dog and left the apartment. Darcy sat at the kitchen island, dumbfounded. She was still sitting there when he returned, kissed her gently, and asked if she was going to be late for work. That was when Darcy realized she was still in her bathrobe.

 

 

“So, I don’t know what the hell is going on,” she told Jane later that day. “Brock is flirting with Frank, Frank is being cryptic, and we’re all going on a vacation together.”

“Yup,” Jane said.

“What does that mean?” Darcy asked.

“You got involved with two guys--two guys who are oddly alike--and now there’s drama?” Jane said. “I mean, there were always going to be issues, right?” Her voice was reasonable.

“But should I tell Frank it’s okay if he wants to bail or will he feel excluded?” Darcy wondered.

“I think you should all go,” Jane said. “And maybe talk to them both about what _you_ want, instead of worrying that everything you do will somehow freak one or the other out. What about your needs?”

“Um, I feel like my needs are wildly taken care of,” she said. “Like, a lot.” She twirled her pen.

“Sexual needs aren’t emotional needs,” Jane said.

“Pffffffhhhht,” Darcy said. “I just want both of them to be happy and not hate me, you know? Also, I think Brock could use a friend, even if Frank isn’t interested in being his boyfriend.”

“Does Brock know he needs a friend?” Jane said wryly.

“All his old work friends were HYDRA or dead or both,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” Jane said.

“What?”

“He talks about Frank like he talks about you, it’s a three-person we in your house now,” Jane said. “He definitely isn’t friendzoning Frank.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “Which I’m happy about, as long as Frank doesn’t have, like, a mondo freakout.” She pulled a face. “And maybe I didn’t help that last night?”

“What’s happened last night?” Jane said.

“We--the we that is Brock and me--had sex while Frank was asleep in the bed with us and now I feel bad, Jane! Like, nice girls don’t do that,” Darcy said. “Everyone in the bed should be awake and mostly sober.”

“Mostly sober?” Jane said, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, I know I’d had Asgardian whiskey when I flashed Brock after that karaoke thing, but that’s my one exception. He was too pretty for me to make words at the time.”

“You were sooooo drunk, you told him that your boobs were excellent and then _you showed them to him,_ you were making words,” Jane said.

“Okay, I was making bimbo words, not real words,” she said.

 

***

“I thought we could watch a movie, baby,” Brock told her, rubbing her shoulders. They were at home. Frank was out on a cheating case. They seldom got time alone, between his schedule and Frank’s presence. Not that Frank being around bothered Brock. “Wanted to talk to you about something,” Brock said.

“Please tell me you said something to Frank this morning?” Darcy said as they cuddled on the couch. “Like, _I’m sorry for last night’s sex shenanigans,_ maybe?”

“Why would I apologize for that?” Brock said wryly. He slung an arm around her shoulder. “I think he wants to be with us, honey.” He squeezed her. Darcy looked at him with an amused expression.

“Really?” Darcy said.

“Yeah,” Brock said. “He was checking me out at the boxing gym, I’m telling you. I wanted to say, eyes up here, Frank.” Darcy laughed. He smiled at her. “He didn’t flash me or anything, he lacks your expert seduction skills,” Brock said.

“Ahhh, Jane reminded me of my artful seduction of you today,” Darcy said. “God, it’s so embarrassing.”

“That was a good night,” Brock said, grinning. He’d thought she was adorable, but too young for him, probably. It had been a good surprise.

“Okay, skipping over the subject of why you tolerate my crazy,” Darcy asked. “What do you want to discuss with me?” Her expression was bright. Eager, he thought. She knew. Had Frank mentioned the trip?

“He tell you?” Brock said, feeling a touch of disappointment. He’d wanted her to be surprised.

“It was an accident! He didn’t mean to, I just saw his passport and had a little panic attack that we’d basically sexually assaulted him and he was fleeing the country in terror,” Darcy said. Brock chuckled. She had an active imagination. “He told me that you were surprising us with a trip?” she asked, beaming.

“Yeah,” Brock said. She made a squealing sound. “You excited?” he said, relieved.

“Yes! I’m incredibly excited,” Darcy said. “I haven’t been on a real non-Jane vacation since my high school field trips to, like, boring American historical sites? I can’t believe you’re taking me on a romantic trip--I’ve never actually been anywhere romantic with someone.”

“You’re going somewhere romantic with two someones,” Brock said. “How do you feel about that?”

“How do I feel? How do you feel?” Darcy said. He pressed his thumb into her lip.

“Like I’m going on a fun trip with my favorite person in the world and the grumpy Marine who owns her favorite dog,” he said, more lightly than he felt. “I want everything to go well.”

“Me, too,” Darcy said. She leaned against him. He felt her breathe in. They’d been curled up for a minute when she spoke. “Do you--God, this is as awkward as me flashing you,” Darcy stammered. “Are you attracted to Frank? Like, genuinely attracted?”

“Yeah,” he said, massaging her back. “He’s a fit guy.”

“Is that the only criteria?” Darcy said softly.

“It’s not the only criteria, no,” Brock said. “What’s this about, baby?”

“We’ve, uh, never talked about you and, um, other guys before? Not really,” she said. Her expression was anxious. They’d joked around about his flirtatious behavior, but he hadn’t been explicit with her.

“This bothers you?” he said. “Makes you uncomfortable?”

“No, no,” Darcy said. “Not uncomfortable--just, well, I was curious. You don’t tell me things about people you dated before me. Part of me worries, maybe there are all kinds of things you like that I don’t know about, maybe you should tell me?” She rubbed his arm coaxingly. Brock scratched his jaw, then turned off the television.

“All right,” he said. “Here we fucking go.” He huffed, then realized she was nervous-looking. “Don’t freak out, baby.” He rubbed her shoulders gently.

“Okay,” she said. He leaned his head back, thought about what he wanted to say.

“I knew I was bisexual when I was young,” he said. “Fifteen or whatever. I liked women, I had girlfriends, and I loved fucking them, but I also had a fucking monster crush on Bobby Gentile. We played baseball together. I wanted to be just like him, too. He was popular, outgoing. But I didn’t know anybody who was out, not really. My old man? He would have beat me. And the Bronx was a rough place. There was a big fucking stigma. Macho culture. I knew I’d get the shit kicked out of me if I even looked at another guy.” He felt his jaw twitch.

“Brock,” she said. “If you aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to tell me--”

“It’s okay, lemme get this out, baby. I wanna tell you.” He paused, licked his lips in thought. “That’s what got me into boxing, you know, I was so conscious of my difference from other people. And I wanted to fight somebody about it. I was really pissed---a mad little kid,” he said.

“You wanted to fight?” Darcy said.

“It was this feeling in my gut that I wasn’t safe, you know? You probably don’t know,” he said. “I’ve seen your Puente Antiguo file--”

“What?” Darcy said. “You looked at my file?”

“You showed me your boobs, of course I read your file, I was using my advantages, all right?” he said, grinning.  

“Naughty!” she said. He laughed.

“You know it.”

“Sorry, I interrupted,” Darcy said.

“Anyway, you’re a lover, honey, you try to cuddle people or you run, not fight them. But I was wired differently, it was like I had all this anger in me, just mad at the goddamn world. Mad ‘cause I was poor, I was shorter and skinnier than everybody else, ‘cause my old man screamed at us, all that shit. Jesus, I was so fucking mad all the time,” he said. He rubbed one of her hands between his. “Boxing gave me some control over all my feelings. And, you know, it’s good male intimacy. What I could get of it.”

“You didn’t date any guys when you were young?” she said. He laughed.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t fuck anybody, much less date them, until I left the military,” he said.

“Oh,” she said. “You would have been discharged.”

“Uh-huh,” Brock said.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She leaned forward and hugged him gently. “Thank you for telling me that,” Darcy said.

“I’m not sure why I never mentioned it,” he said.  He’d been afraid it would scare her off. He’d worked hard to smooth off his rough edges, too. Admitting he’d once had a temper destroyed the hard-won illusion of coolness. She was still holding him.

 

They were mid-movie when she stopped. “Brock?” She tilted her head up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you with me instead of, like, a personal trainer named Dave?” she said. “You’d have more in common with a Dave.”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I need to be with somebody like you and not somebody like me,” he said, chuckling.

“But what about Frank?” she said. “You have a lot in common…” He snorted.

“Me and Frank? Alone, we’d probably kill each other. With you, we’re good,” he said.

“Sure,” Darcy said.  “If you say so…”

“Trust me.”

“Wait, you think hitting people is intimate?” she asked.

“You gotta get in real close,” he said, playing with the hem of her shirt and sliding his hand up her back, “nobody wears shirts, and there’s a lot of sweating and groaning,” he said.  

“Huh. I never thought of that.”

“I started with wrestling. That’s some homoerotic shit,” he said, laughing. “You’re just rolling around on the floor with people.” She grinned at him.

“Can you teach me some wrestling moves?” Darcy asked.

“I could do that.”

“Just go easy on me.”

“How easy?” he asked.

 

They were half-dressed and rolling around on the floor when Frank came home. “Hey, Frank,” Darcy said. She was pinned under Brock. He smirked.

“Work go okay?” Brock asked. Frank looked from them to the dog on the couch.

“Do these idiots just fuck anytime I leave the room?” he asked Dog.

“We’re wrestling,” Darcy said. “I still have pants on, even if he doesn’t.”

“My pants weren’t real stretchy,” Brock explained. Darcy’s legs were bracketed against his briefs. He had his palm on one thigh.

“Uh-huh,” Frank said. “I’m having a beer.”

“Did you want to wrestle with us?” Darcy called. Frank snorted. He looked back at them. Seemed to think for a minute.

“Sure,” he said. He put his beer down on the counter and started to kick off his shoes. “What do I win?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something when I win,” Brock said. He winked. Frank snickered.

“Just for that, asshole,” Frank said, “I’m going to give you trouble.”

 

They were a tangled mass on the floor when Brock remembered that Darcy was highly ticklish. He tickled. She squealed and jolted. “Fuck,” Frank hissed. She was underneath him at the time. “You goddamned asshole,” he said. Brock had his arms pinned and was half-across Frank’s back.

“I’m going to die,” Darcy said, wiggling. “You can’t literally die of tickling and sexual frustration, can you?” Brock chuckled.

“No, sweetheart,” he said.

“Says you,” Frank muttered.

“Did you want to touch her buddy?” he asked Frank wryly. He leaned in to whisper in the other man’s ear. “Be nice to have your hands right now, wouldn’t it?”  

“Christ,” Frank said, turning his head to look at Brock. He paused. Swallowed. “Sometimes, you really piss me off.”

“Yeah?” Brock said. He relaxed his hold on Frank’s arm very slowly. Frank could throw him off if he felt like it. Instead, Frank breathed raggedly, flickering his eyes over Brock’s face. He leaned in. It was the lightest, most tentative kiss. A second later, he’d shoved Brock over onto the floor, elbowing him in the stomach. Brock coughed, laughing.

“I fucking win,” Frank said. He sounded triumphant. Brock looked over, before there was a thud. “Ow! What the fuck?” Frank said. He was gaping at Darcy. She’d grabbed his earlobe and yanked him off of her.  

“No,” Darcy said. “I win.” She grinned.

“What do you want, honey?” Brock said, putting his hands behind his head.

“Ice cream,” she said. “And one of you is carrying all my stuff at the airport.”

“Booooooo,” Brock said. Frank was sitting up on the floor, rubbing his ear.

“That was some ruthless shit,” he said.

“I taught her well,” Brock told him.

  


***

“Wait, where are you calling from?” Jane said.

“Airport ladies room,” Darcy said. “I’m freaking out, okay?”

“Why?”

“What if I’m not ready,” Darcy said, lowering her voice—“sexually, I mean?”

“I thought you were into this?”

“Theoretically, but what if I’m just not flexible enough? I keep googling Cosmo threesome articles and worrying I’ll literally choke on a penis in some circus sex position. I really should have taken a yoga class,” Darcy hissed. “There’s all this tension. It made me nervous. They’re out there flirting!”

“In the airport?”

“Well, it’s them, so Brock insulted Frank’s sweatpants and Frank gave him shit about his travel scarves,” she explained.

“Why does he wear those scarves?” Jane wondered.

“It’s his low body fat, he gets cold on planes like a skinny college girl. Or Jessica in HR.”

“Ohhhh,” Jane said. “He’s a Jessica?”

“I know, right?” Darcy said. “I’m kinda jelly.” She paused. “I know the subtext. They’ve been like this for days now. We’ve all been sleeping in the same bed. Frank kissed Brock to win at wrestling. Somebody’s gonna make a move on this trip. A real move.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Jane said.

“I’m scared now,” Darcy said. She frowned. “It's a lot of pressure. They’re both so in shape. I’m practically made of Eggos and Nutella. What if I’m subpar and they replace me with someone more sexually skilled?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“That Lauren girl who has visible abs and can fit into the Carrie Underwood athletic wear, I’ve seen her at the SHIELD gym,” Darcy said. “She can probably bend her spine like a contortionist. I bet she’s great at throuple vacation sex.”

“Throuple,” Jane said, giggling. “Throuple.”

“It sounds like a nineteenth-century lung disease, I know, but we’re going on vacation together, I don’t think I can pretend this is casual,” Darcy said.

“What if you went with significant throthers?” Jane said.

“Shut up,” Darcy said. “Also, it sounds too much like significant brothers, that’s icky.”

“True, true,” Jane said.

“Ahhh,” Darcy said. “Brock just texted me. We’re getting ready to board.”

“Have fun being boarded, Darce!” Jane said, laughing. She hung up. Darcy stared down at her phone, then shook her head.

“That was just mean,” she said out loud. “She’s gets a little Thor, she’s all chill when I’m in a crisis, but was she chill? No, she was not. And I’m talking to myself in a bathroom at the airport.”

  



	6. Normal Rules Don't Apply on Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your support on this story. I'm hoping it doesn't read as awkwardly as imagine the characters are feeling, lol.

“You need a suit?” Brock offered. “I’m happy to give you one. We’re about the same height.”

“Yeah,” Frank said, trying to be friendly. “Sure.” Darcy was getting ready in the bathroom. They were going to dinner. The other man left and came back. “Thanks,” he said, as Brock handed him the suit on a hanger. “That’s a good suit.” Brock nodded.

“I’m gonna have a drink. They put Reposado in the rooms,” he said. He shut the door and Frank breathed a sigh of relief. Faintly, he could hear Darcy rattling around in the bathroom.

 

He found Brock on the room’s balcony. Rumlow handed him a shot glass.“Nice view,” Frank said. They were on the second story. You could see the ocean, hear it in the dark, over the sounds of people in the restaurant on the ground level.

“I like Tulum,” Rumlow said. “And Darcy likes warm weather.”

“Yeah,” Frank said. They were both quiet. “You sure I’m not raining on your parade?” Frank asked. The hotel was actually a bunch of different bungalows. He’d expected the anonymity of a large hotel, not this. This was the kind of place you went on a honeymoon.

“It occurred to you yet that I like having you around?” Brock said to him. “Need you around? You’re much better at this shit than I am.”

“What now?” Frank said.

“You were married, you had a family,” Brock said, as if it should be obvious.

“What the hell are you talking about, asshole?” Frank said. He still felt touchy whenever anybody but Darcy or Karen brought up Maria, Lisa, or Frank Jr.

“Sorry,” Rumlow said, wincing and rubbing his jaw. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to insult you. Just listen, okay? I’m a fifty year old man who’s never been married. I don’t have kids, I’ve never lived with anybody. I fucked people, all right? Casually. I went to work, that was my life. I don’t know what I’m doing with Darcy. I love her, but I’ve never done this before.” He tapped the railing. His cufflinks shone silver in the dark. Frank stared at him. He kept talking. “When the goddamn building fell on me, there was nobody waiting when I woke up in the hospital. I got patched up by Cho, went back to work, acted like nothing changed. But I couldn’t shake knowing that I didn’t matter to somebody. Laying there, just knowing.” His voice was raw and he’d slipped back into a heavier Bronx accent.

“You were burned,” Frank said, looking away. “I heard it was bad shit.” Darcy had mentioned Brock’s undercover work, explained how he’d barely survived the battle of Triskelion, been a triple agent within HYDRA  for Fury, then gone undercover as Crossbones when he was still scarred. Brock nodded.

“People looked at me like I still might be HYDRA,” he said. “I want things with Darcy to work, I want her to be happy so she won’t leave me.”

“You’re asking me for advice?” Frank said, shaking his head.

“You were married,” Brock said.

“I knocked up Maria when we’d been dating for a few weeks,” Frank said. “She told me she was keeping the baby, with or without my ass.” He chuckled. “I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, I just asked her to marry me and she didn’t realize what a dumb fuck I was yet.”

“Shit,” Brock said, laughing.  

“I think you should her that, you dumb motherfucker,” Frank said. “Tell her you want this to work.”

“Not knock her up?” Brock said. He smirked.

“Fuck no,” Frank said. “I think she wants another dog, not kids.”

“She doesn’t tell me that kind of stuff,” Brock said. His expression had fallen.

“Even if she did want kids, you got that old sperm, she don’t need that,” Frank joked.

“Shut your goddamn mouth, motherfucker,” Brock said. “My shit’s fine. I’ve been Cradled. All my health records are stellar, everybody says so.”

“Uh-huh,” Frank said.

“I could get her pregnant, no problem.”

“It ain’t getting her pregnant, it’s having a weird-looking kid that eats glue.”

“Fuck you.”

“You want to, dontcha?” Frank said. He snorted. “Talk about it all the goddamn time.”

“This conversation is beginning to hurt my feelings, you calling me old, acting like I’m not a hot guy,” Brock said. “I’d have nice kids.”

“They’d be spoiled.”

“Oh yeah?” Brock said. “What makes you say that, asshole?”

“I was a spoiled little shit,” Frank said. “My parents were older. They let me do whatever, I had no discipline. Didn’t get my shit together until I joined up, met Maria.”

“Oh, yeah. Darcy would probably spoil a kid, let it stay up late, eat cake for breakfast,” Brock said.

“Yep,” Frank said. “The dad would need to be there to balance it out.”

“You could do that,” Brock said.

“You think this whole arrangement’s gonna last?” Frank said, incredulous. “Cause it’s some weird shit.”

“It’s not that weird, you just have internalized homophobia,” Brock said. Frank scoffed.

“Where’d you get that, your word-a-day calendar?” Frank said.

“Bullshit,” Brock muttered. He stopped looking at the view and looked at Frank. “Do you not want this to work?”

“What is this?” Frank said. “Define this, motherfucker.”

“The three of us,” Brock said. “Me and her, you and her, me and you.”

“You think we’re supposed to be together? You and me?” Frank said.

“Yeah,” Brock said. “I do. Why do you think I included you?”

“Jesus,” Frank said. He gestured to the view. “So, this is you romancing me?” He started to laugh. “I expected more flowers, if I was gonna date an old dude, maybe some gifts,” he joked.

“That what you want?” Brock said. Frank realized he was serious.

“Christ Almighty, I don’t want a goddamn sugar daddy, Rumlow. I’ll fool around with you if that’s what she wants, but you and me? We aren’t a thing,” Frank said, feeling weirdly emotional. He set his glass down with a thunk and went into the half-bathroom. In the mirror, he looked at his face. He felt shaky and keyed up. His ears were flaming red. “Shit,” he said. “Fuck.” He took a few deep breaths, tried to calm down.

 

Rumlow was still standing there when he got back. Frank shifted uncomfortably. “I shouldn’t have said that,” Frank said. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sometimes, I say shit but it’s--”

“It’s not personal?” Rumlow said dryly. His face was expressionless.

“Don’t you fucking do that,” Frank said. “I see what you’re doing.”

“Excuse me?” Brock said.

“I apologized, you gotta take the apology,” he said, rubbing his scalp. “I’m new at this polyamorous shit, I’m gonna--I’m gonna--”

“Act like an asshole?” Rumlow said in that same cool voice. He had a middle distance look.

“Maybe,” Frank said. “Shit.” He stood there awkwardly. “What’s taking her so long?”

“She’s drying her hair,” Brock said. “Takes a while.”

“Yeah,” Frank said.

“She doesn’t want kids?” Brock said.

“I think she doesn’t,” Frank said.

“Why doesn’t she tell me things like that?” Brock said, looking sadly at his tequila. “She talks to you.”

“I’m friendly, lots of people talk to me,” Frank said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Sure,” Brock said skeptically.

“Guy at reception, he talked to me,” Frank said. “Just now..”

“Shut the fuck up Castle,” Brock said.

“Maybe she’d want kids if you were the one asking, you ever think of that? She loves you,” Frank said. “She’s fucking crazy about you, lights up whenever you come into a room.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just the guy she keeps around ‘cause you’re gone,” Frank said, trying to reassure him. “If you changed jobs, she’d get tired of me hanging around, eating all her potato chips and shit. You’re the one she really wants.” He reached out and touched Rumlow’s elbow. “You fucking know that, right?”

Rumlow tilted his head back and sighed. “Sure, Frank,” he said. “That checks.”

“You’re a damn piece of work,” Frank scolded.

“What the fuck are you saying?” Brock said.

“You just have your--your whatever the fuck this is,” Frank said, gesturing. “You got insecurities? You can’t just be fucking happy to be all good-looking and shit. Everybody talks about how young you look, how you got that good hair and that five goddamn percent body fat--”

“Six percent,” Brock corrected.

“See? Guys like me are just trying to keep up,” Frank said. “Mr. Fancyman doesn’t think he’s good enough? What are the rest of us supposed to do?”

“This is you giving me a pep talk?” Brock said, leaning over the railing.

“Yeah,” Frank said. “I’m trying.” He looked at Brock. “Look, I shouldn’t have been rough on you--”

“Don’t apologize,” Brock said dryly.

“No, I’m gonna fucking apologize, I didn’t mean it,” he said.

“Felt like you did,” Brock said. They were both quiet. Frank reached out and rubbed Rumlow’s back awkwardly.

“I didn’t,” he repeated.

 

“Guys, whatcha doing out there?” Darcy said, appearing at the other side of the room. For a second, Frank stared. She looked amazing. Her dress clung to every curve “Ooooh, good suits, very fancy,” Darcy said. She came over and kissed each of them in turn, smiling.

“I borrowed his suit,” Frank said. “He was, uh, nice enough to loan me one.”

“You look beautiful,” Brock told her. She hugged him, clearly thrilled. Frank watched as she tilted her head up to smile at Brock. She was glowing. There were spots of color in her cheeks.

“I’m so excited,” Darcy said. “The ocean! And no snow! This is my first snow-free, non-work trip since 2011.”

“Good,” Brock said. “You ready to go down to dinner?”

“Yeah,” she said. She smiled brightly and Frank felt his heart tighten. They went downstairs. Darcy seemed cheerful. She held each of their hands. Frank kept catching Brock smiling at her.

 

***

Darcy was freaking out. She was sweating, she’d gotten a brush tangled in her hair, and generally cussed for ten minutes in the bathroom before she got herself together enough to go out. Now they were in the restaurant. “You want a drink?” Brock asked her. She could see a flicker of worry in his expression, so she tried to be cheerful.

“I’d love that,” she said. She ordered a margarita, but she was still nervous as they sat. Even the conversation seemed a little more tense than normal. Also, her heart was beating too much. She was actually worried there might be a point of sexual nervousness that could induce cardiac arrest. Brock looked at her.

“C’mere,” he said, coaxing her into his lap. Across the table, Frank snorted.

“What happened to decorum?” Frank said.

“Vacation. Normal rules don’t apply,” Brock said, cupping the back of Darcy’s neck. The two men shared a look. What were they thinking? Darcy curled herself against Brock’s neck and tried to calm down and read Frank’s expression.

“That right?” Frank said, He toyed with his beer. “I thought people just spent too much money?”

“We can do that, too. I was thinking tomorrow, we could go down, see the ruins?” Brock said.

“Sounds good to me,” Darcy said. “Frank?”

“Ruins are always fun,” he said, grinning.

“Before we leave the country, I want to see how difficult it is to get to San Miguel Allende from here, too,” Brock added. “They’ve got that good silver jewelry you like,” he told Darcy.

“That,” Frank said. “Is a much better plan than some ruins.”

“Oh yeah?” Brock said.

“I was married for a decade, earrings trump ruins,” Frank said. He waved over a waiter. “Anybody else want tequila?”

“Yes,” Darcy and Brock said in unison. It was easier once they had food, but her stomach was so fluttery, it was difficult to really eat. They were politely talking about the restaurant’s view of the ocean, the food, trips everyone had been on before. It was a level of first-date awkwardness that Darcy had never experienced before. Except that she’d never been on a first date with two men. And each of them keep giving her intense looks when they thought the other wasn’t looking, so she was panicky at chest level and a little turned on, too. The mixture of emotions was distressing. Finally, she sipped her drink, set it down, and decided to acknowledge the tension. “I think we should go back to the room,” Darcy announced first. She lowered her voice. “Because there’s something I want to say and not in front of people.”

“Okay,” Brock told her. “I’ll get the check.”

“No, lemme get this one,” Frank said. “I’ll take care of it, just get her out of here if she needs air.” He’d been pulling at his collar for ten minutes, so Darcy guessed he might need it, too.

Outside the hotel restaurant, she paused in the sand. Looked out at the ocean in the dark. “Let’s wait for Frank,” she said.

“Sure,” Brock told her, slipping his arms around her waist. She could hear the waves lapping. Frank came out of the restaurant, saw them, and jogged over.

“You okay?” he said.

“I’m just nervous,” Darcy said, looking from one to the other. “I don’t know what I’m doing, how this will go—”

“That’s okay, baby,” Brock said tenderly. “We can take it as slow as you want.” A frowning Frank pulled at his shirt collar.

“You want a safe word?” Frank asked Brock looked at him, expression surprised. “What, I can’t google?” Frank said.

“That would be good,” Darcy said.

“I’d pick no, that’s real clear,” Frank added.

“If you aren’t comfortable, either,” Darcy said, “you don’t have to—”

“No, I do, okay?” Frank said. “I wanna be here.” Brock was looking between the two of them carefully. “What?” Frank said.

“Are you drunk?” Brock said.

“No,” Frank said. “I got on a damn plane, I want to be here.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Darcy told him.

“Yeah?” he said. He gave her an oddly soft look. “You sure?”

“Let’s, um, go back to the room?” she suggested.

  


They went back to the room. Brock took off his jacket and lowered the mosquito netting around the bed. Frank took off his jacket and stood awkwardly. Darcy looked around, wondering how she was supposed to start. “I think,” Darcy said, “that it would be nice, if everyone is game, to take off some clothes and maybe kiss for awhile. If everyone is interested?” She realized Frank was grinning. “What?” she said.

“I’m thinking your safe word should be Love Boat,” he teased. “Miss Cruise Director—what are you doing?” he said to Brock.

“Letting you flunk foreplay and dirty talk while I take my clothes off,” he said, unbuckling his belt. He looked at her. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. She sighed and grinned at him. Her expression was delighted. “I love you, too. So much.”

“Good.”

“That’s fucking cheating,” Frank said under his breath.

“We love you, too, Frank,” Darcy said, giggling at his petulant expression.

“Shut up, I don’t wanna hear that shit right now,” he grumbled.

“Frank’s not a romantic,” Brock said. “I’m trying not to let it hurt our feelings, baby.”

“You just took your pants off. Your dick is out,” Frank said.

“You intimidated?” Brock said.

“No.”

“Who wants to help me out of this?” Darcy said.

“I gotcha,” Frank said. He helped unzip the dress while she kissed Brock. She was leaning against Brock when Frank started to kiss her neck and back.His fingers slid around to squeeze her breasts.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “That’s new and different.” Brock grinned at her.

“Different good?” he said.

“Yeah,” she told him. “We should get in bed, probably.”

“I can’t believe I’m climbing into bed with you people under a goddamn mosquito net,” Frank said. Darcy helped him with his clothes. She wasn’t sure if he wanted Brock to undress him yet.

“I think it’s pretty,” she said.

“I’ll get you one for the apartment, it’ll go good with your twinkle lights,” Brock said, watching them and rubbing Darcy’s back. Eventually, she rolled over to kiss him and pulled Frank coaxingly towards them by the hand. He was naked and visibly hard. He stopped for a second and Darcy looked back in concern.

“You okay?” she said.

“Will you stop asking me that?” Frank grumbled. He climbed into bed.

“I think you’re killing his mood,” Brock joked.

“I see you looking at my dick,” Frank said to him.

“I’ll let you have a minute to relax,” Darcy said, leaning over to kiss Brock. She thought staying between them might be good for the moment. She’d give Frank the time to get comfortable. She leaned against Brock’s mouth, sucking slowly. It turned into a longer kiss than she expected. He pressed his tongue between her lips and she relaxed. She could relax, Darcy thought. Enjoy this. She was working on his top lip when she felt Frank move from rubbing her back to shift under the sheet. For a second, she didn’t feel him, but then his hands touched her legs and spread her knees apart. Frank started kissing her thighs. The sensation was thrilling. She shifted onto her back to give him better access and Brock moved too. When she broke the kiss to moan, Brock grinned at her. “He’s fucking huge,” Brock mouthed, expression humorous. She nodded.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy mouthed back.

“Are you talking about me?” Frank said suddenly. He was fully under the sheet, so his voice was muffled.

“No, no, that feels really good,” Darcy said. She swallowed. “Don’t stop. Please.” She felt his tongue again. “Oh God, that’s so amazing,” she said, looking to Brock. He was studying her face, leaning on his elbow. Having him watch her made it feel more intense. She wiggled moaning, as he gazed at her face. Brock smirked. Then he started kissing her again, more roughly this time. 

“You having a good time? Save some for me, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. Frank was teasing her clit when he said it and that sent her over the edge. She clutched at his neck and hair, scratching Brock a little as she came. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, trying to catch her breath. It was like being crashed by a wave.

“It’s okay.” Brock leaned over and kissed her lightly, then turned his head. “Hey, Frank, you wanna switch?” he said.

“Yeah,” Frank said. He head emerged from under the sheet. “What are we doing?” he asked. His expression was oddly innocent, like all his cynicism had fallen away. He looked like a twenty year old Marine recruit, between his haircut and his expression. It was so surprising, Darcy started to laugh. “What’s wrong with her?” Frank said. “You okay?”

“What are we doing?” she said. “What _are_ we doing?” She looked at Frank. “Both of you are in my bed!” She covered her eyes for a second. “Oh my God.”

“We can stop--” Brock said.

“I don’t want to stop, I’m just contemplating the logistics of two penises at once,” Darcy admitted. “I’m okay, I just can’t look at you now. I feel stupid and inexperienced.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Frank muttered. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I think she’s a little giddy,” Brock said. ”Her heart was racing earlier. Let’s relax, okay? We can take some time.”

“That doesn’t solve my essential problem,” Darcy said, feeling a flush in her cheeks. There was a pause. She could tell Brock was thinking.

“What if we do this in turns for now, huh? Just like the schedule. That sound good?” Brock said. “Honey, you have a preference who goes first?” He was using his calm, _I’m excellent in a crisis_ voice.

“Nope,” she said, biting her lip and taking her hands down. Frank was already nodding.

“You go first,” Frank said to Brock.

“You sure?” Brock said. Frank scratched his head.

“I’m not sure about this fucking with audience thing,” he admitted. “I might need a night or two to get used to it.”

“You should get more comfortable with each other,” Darcy told him seriously. Frank looked nervous. She sat up. “C’mere, I have an idea.” She kissed Frank for awhile.

“This is good,” Frank said. Brock was rubbing her shoulders on Darcy’s other side. She rolled over onto her back.

“I think I want both of you to kiss me at once,” she said. They both leaned down to kiss her. There was a moment of awkwardness as they adjusted their arms. Frank slid an arm over her belly. Brock put one behind her shoulder. She was surrounded, but she felt safe. Soft kisses dotted her face, her mouth. Frank slid his tongue between her lips. He tasted like her. Brock was licking one of her earlobes. That was nice. “Mmmm,” she said arching her back. Fingers palmed over her breasts, but she had her eyes closed. She didn’t know who it was.

“Heart rate returning to normal?” Brock asked softly. Darcy opened her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. She looked from him to Frank. Frank looked up. He was hesitating.

“Can I kiss you?” Brock asked him. Frank nodded. Darcy watched as Brock leaned over her body. Frank’s jaw was tight, but he relaxed as Brock kissed him. When Brock pulled back. Frank was blinking.

“You okay?” Darcy asked, rubbing his arm.

“Frank?” Brock said. Frank looked at him.

“I’m good,” he said. He swallowed. “You’re a good kisser.”

“He is,” Darcy said.

“Thank you.”

“Someone kiss me now,” Darcy said jokingly, trying to break the tension.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Tulum? Beautiful little bungalows right on the beach. I figure that throws Frank a little, 'cause it's so a.) romantic and b.) clear who is together.
> 
> https://www.touropia.com/best-places-to-stay-in-tulum/?load=hotels&source=item
> 
>  


	7. Underestimating the Appeal of Ruins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos!

Tulum was beautiful, Brock thought. “I think I underestimated the appeal of ruins,” Frank said. They were trailing behind Darcy as they approached the buildings across a wide, grassy plaza. The Mayan architecture was on a cliff side and behind it, the sea stretched as vista of endless tropical blue.

“What were you thinking it would be like?” Brock said. He caught Darcy around the waist as she wobbled in her sandals, craning and holding up her phone camera. Frank had moved instinctively, too. They grinned at each other, but then Frank stepped back a fraction. He almost looked shy. It was a cute expression.

“I dunno, you think abandoned buildings, you kinda think creepy hospital,” Frank said to Brock. He nodded.

“We’re from bad places,” Brock joked. 

“Where you grow up again?” Frank asked.

“East 191st Street,” he said. “You?”

“Queens,” Frank said. “My grandparents were from Sicily.”

“No shit?” Brock said, starting to laugh. “Where?”

“Uh, some little town outside Palermo?” Frank said.

“Mine were from Trapani. They lived with us. Grew up speaking Italian with them at home,” Brock said. Darcy turned back and grinned at them. 

“What?” Frank said.

“You’re both cute Sicilians,” she said. “Why is there not more pasta in this relationship? Shouldn’t there be more pasta?”

“I see where your priorities are,” Frank said, reaching out to rub her back. She smelled of sunscreen and vanilla. 

“My priorities are stellar,” she said. “Smoosh together, I want photos of you both.”

“No, no, you get in here, too.” Brock made sure to lean down so his face was close to hers.  


They wandered around the site for two hours and then Darcy turned back and looked at them. She was holding their hands. “Shower, lunch, and bed? Or bed and lunch?”

“Sounds good either way,” Brock said.

"Frank?"

"Bed," he said, expression tentative.

"Okay," she said, smiling.

 

***

Darcy grinned as she rolled her hips. Frank had moved from kissing her breasts to sloppily kissing Brock. She was on top of Brock; he moaned when Frank broke the kiss and then looked up at her with a dazed expression. “This is the best goddamn vacation,” he said. Darcy laughed at him. “Don’t mock me—Castle, where you going?” Brock asked. 

“I need to handle my situation,” Frank groaned. He palmed at his briefs. 

“C’mere,” Brock said. He reached out to stroke Frank carefully. “Keep going, baby,” he told Darcy. “This good?”

“Yeah.” Frank looked nervous, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Touch me, please,” Darcy panted. That seemed to shake him out of his anxiety. Frank gripped her breasts and squeezed. He leaned down carefully to lick gently at one nipple. 

“Ohhh, God,” Darcy said, bouncing more roughly. She had orgasmed and eased off Brock when he looked at Frank. Frank was still hard. 

“Lemme really help you,” he said, moving, “lay back, Frank.” He grabbed a condom off the nightstand. Darcy stared, transfixed and more than a little turned on, as Brock leaned his face in between Frank’s legs. Frank stared down at Brock as he sucked, eyes wide. She climbed up beside Frank to kiss him.

“Shit,” he said, groaning. “I’m so fucked up, but that feels so goddamn good.”

“You’re great,” she told him. She leaned over to nuzzle him. 

“You’re—you’re not jealous?” Frank stuttered out. 

“No,” she said watching Brock. “It’s really hot.” She kissed Frank and then yelped in surprise and pleasure when she felt Frank slide a finger inside her.  Frank curved his fingers and pressed gently. She jolted in response. “Uhhhh, sorry, honey,” she said, pulling back from kissing to apologize for bumping Brock accidentally.

“What?” Frank said. His arm was flush between her breasts. She could feel a slight tremor. Both of them were sweating and shaking a little.

“I kicked him,” she said. Frank chuckled, then gasped.

 “Uhhhh, you asshole,” Frank said. He craned his neck to watch Brock, fingers still inside her. He moved again and Darcy buried her face against his neck, moaning and swearing. She was close enough to feel the jerk of his hips when Frank came. “Jesus,” Frank hissed. 

“You all right?” Brock said, from somewhere below Darcy. She rolled over on her back, separating herself from Frank with a shudder. She looked at them. Brock was grinning up at her, his cheek resting against Frank’s stomach.

“You’re both so damn pretty,” she said.

“I am not pretty,” Frank grumbled. “He’s pretty, maybe.”

“I think you’re pretty,” Darcy said, reaching over to scratch his scalp. 

“Cut it out.”

“He can’t take a compliment,” Brock said. Frank snorted.

“Bullshit,” he said.

“Who’s taking a shower with me? Why don’t both of you?” Darcy asked. 

“We all fit in there?” Frank wondered.

 

  
***

They went to a restaurant in Tulum. At lunch, she talked Brock out of San Miguel de Allende for this trip. They’d looked it up and discovered it was a twenty-plus hour car trip. “Another time,” Darcy said, pinning up her wet hair with a clip she’d found at the bottom of her purse. 

“You sure?” Brock asked.

“Uh-huh,” she said. Darcy was sitting in his lap. She had zero desire to check out of their beachfront hotel for a long car trip or a complicated plane trip. “We don’t have to do all that. Let’s just hang around here instead?”

“She’s very sensible,” Frank said. “Which is surprising for someone who wears kids’ socks.” There was no malice in his voice, just a kind of teasing affection. 

“Bite me,” Darcy sassed. He started to laugh. The three of them were wildly relaxed, she thought. No need to kill the mood with unnecessary travel. People got stressed in airports.

“What else do you want to do?” Brock asked seriously.

“Let’s just go hang out on the beach,” Darcy said. On the way back to the hotel, she did stop to buy one of the painted frames from a shop. “I’m totally putting a picture of us in this,” she told Frank. He grinned. 

“That’s sweet, honey,” Brock said.

“I’m a very sweet person. Frank? Whatcha looking at?” Darcy said. He was peering at some of the Frida Kahlo stuff made for tourists.

“I don’t get it,” he said. Darcy decided she wanted several of the little frames. She could put a photo of Jane and Thor in another one and get one for her mom. She moved around while Frank studied a reproduction of a Frida Kahlo self-portrait with a monkey like he had to write an essay on it.

“You get this?” he asked Brock.

“Famous artist, monkey?” Brock offered, shrugging. He slid a corazon onto the counter next to Darcy’s purchases. “I want you to have this one.”

“I don’t think it’s technically supposed to be romantic,” she said.

“So?” he said, squeezing her shoulder. She melted a little at his look. 

 

“Do you think he’s really in love with me?” she asked Frank later. Brock had left them alone to go get Darcy’s sunscreen. They were sitting on the beach at the hotel. Frank looked at her.

“You blind like my lawyer all of a sudden?” he said. 

“Rude!” she said, swatting him. He started to chuckle. “And don’t make fun of Matt,” she said. 

“No, you’re right, even Murdock could tell he’s in love with you,” Frank said. 

“That’s just ‘cause he hears heartbeats, it’s cheating,” Darcy said, staring down at her drink. “Brock likes you, though. You have things in common.” At lunch, they’d gotten into a long, animated discussion of mission tactics and various weird things about military bureaucracy.

“You’re a little crazy,” Frank told her. 

“Excuse me?”

“Because, idiot,” Frank said. “Nobody longs for somebody who understands that there’s a goddamn D-150 form for orthopedic boots you gotta fill out when you get old.” He made a scoffing sound. “You can run into somebody who’s done that everywhere. World’s full of guys who’ve lived in shitty tents in shitty wars. What you--what he wants is someone being happy to see him, you know? Somebody who’s not in that world at all.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, not really getting it. “Just me being happy?”

“Happy and normal,” Frank said. “You can barely kill a damn fly.”

“My aim’s terrible,” Darcy said. He started to laugh. Brock came walking up with her sunscreen.

“What’s funny?” he asked, looking at them curiously. 

“I can’t kill flies,” Darcy said, beaming at him. Frank was laughing. “He thinks that’s why you love me?”

“What?”

“She’s misunderstanding me on purpose,” Frank said.

 


	8. Vacation from Real Life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos!

The morning of the day they were supposed to leave, Frank disappeared. “Where is he?” Brock said, when he woke up. He sounded nervous.

“He left a note. He had an errand,” Darcy said.

“What kind of errand?” Brock wondered. “We’re on vacation.”

“Maybe there’s a cartel he needs to take out,” Darcy said, wiggling next to Brock. “Anyway, we don’t check out for six hours.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s probably not a whole cartel,” Darcy said. “Maybe it’s just one evil kingpin.”

“Really not funny.”

“He needs a hobby,” Darcy said. “You have to let him have a hobby.” Brock looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a skeptical expression. “Besides, he’d never disappear permanently.”

“You sure about that?”

“We have his dog.”

“Yeah,” Brock said.

“I can distract you,” Darcy said, leaning over to nuzzle him.

 

They were making out in bed when Frank showed up. “Hey,” Darcy said, when he stepped into the room. “Come to bed.”

“Where the hell you been, man?” Brock said, sounding a little pissy to Darcy.

“Errand,” Frank said cryptically.

“What kind of errand?” Brock said.

“He’s a little panicky, it’s my fault, I made a joke in bad taste,” Darcy said. “About you needing to pursue murder hobbies.”

“That right?” Frank said, grinning. “You think I’m dangerous?” he asked Brock. His voice was teasing. Darcy could tell he was joking. But Brock didn’t look amused. He grimaced at Frank.

“You really want me to answer that?” Brock said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Darcy said, sitting up. 

“That came out wrong,” Brock said to her. “Of course Frank’s technically dangerous, sweetheart.” 

“Probably,” Frank said, tone mild. Darcy crossed her arms. Brock’s tone had upset her.

“Why do I feel offended on his behalf?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t be, he’s not wrong,” Frank said. She was busy glaring at Brock.

“He’d never hurt you, but he’s not exactly a mailman, honey--” Brock was saying, when Frank chuckled.

“I dunno, they go postal,” Frank said.

“--and this is a new relationship for all of us, it’s natural to be concerned about how Frank is feeling,” Brock said.

“You could ask me,” Frank said. “I’m right fucking here.”

“How are you feeling, Frank?” Darcy said. He grinned at her, tilting his head. 

“Pretty good,” he said. “I went out to get you a present, honey.” He reached into his pocket and handed Darcy a box. “Technically,” Frank said. “It’s from both of us.”

“That’s kind of you,” Brock said. Darcy thought his face looked surprised.

“I’ll send you a bill,” Frank said dryly. Darcy’s attention had turned to the box in her hands. “Open it,” Frank told her. She unlaced the ribbon and popped off the tape. Glancing up, she realized Frank was doing his shy face, looking slightly off to the side. He swallowed. Darcy knew he was nervous. She opened the box, grinning. 

“These are so beautiful, Frank! I love them,” she said. 

“Yeah?” he said, looking pleased. Brock peered over her shoulder.

“He got you earrings?” he asked. 

“It’s that, uh, silver filigree they do here. You know, a romantic gift, asshole,” Frank said. “We did, but only cause I’m generous enough to share credit.” Fank rubbed his nose and smiled as Darcy put the earrings on and swung her head happily. They jangled. 

“Perfect,” she said. “How much time do we have before we need to drive to the airport?” she asked Brock.

“Hours,” Brock said.

“Okay,” Darcy said. She reached out and took Frank’s hand. “Come snuggle, Frank.”

“Snuggle?” he said archly.

“What, you’re too good to snuggle?” Brock said.

“Shut up and scoot over,” Frank grumbled. He climbed into bed with them.

“I’m going to miss Mexico,” Darcy said, when she was wedged in between them. From the window, you could see the ocean. “It’s so pretty, it doesn’t seem like real life.”

“Nope,” Frank said. 

 

***

They’d only been back from Mexico for a day when Brock had to leave for work. “You doing okay?” Darcy asked Frank, the night that Brock left on his next mission. The two of them were sprawled on her couch in their rattiest pajamas. He had an arm slung around her shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she said. Neither of them had felt like going anywhere.

“It’s real quiet without that asshole around, though,” Frank cracked. 

“I might miss the noise a little,” Darcy admitted. Brock had a big presence. Whenever he was gone, her life felt diminished. Less bright, less fun. She’d already texted him a heart emoji and a message about missing him.

“You worrying?”

“Maybe,” she said. Frank looked at her, kissed her forehead, and grinned.

“He’ll be back,” he said. “The man’s almost as unkillable as me.”

“He’d come back just to make fun of the cumulative number of holes in our clothes,” Darcy said, scrutinizing her leggings.

“Holes just mean you’re getting ‘em comfortable,” Frank said. 

“See, that’s what I think, too.”

“I know, I’ve seen your underwear drawer, woman.”

“Shut up.” She leaned her head against Frank’s shoulder. He channel surfed and she watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Dog slept on the floor. The sound of the television was loud in the space. The remote made a sound as a bored Frank changed the channel.  _ Click-click-click. _

“I might miss him some,” Frank admitted.

“Awwwww,” Darcy said.  “Do you want me to send a heart emoji for you, too?”

“As a friend,” Frank corrected. 

“Okay,” Darcy said. “So, no heart emoji?”

“Nah, I’ll just buy him some flowers and candy,” Frank said.

“You laugh, but I might do that,” she said.

“Buy your boyfriend flowers?” He looked incredulous. 

“Why can’t I?” Darcy said. “But he doesn’t eat chocolate.” She frowned. “Which is sad and depressing, the more you think about it. All the things he never eats. He doesn’t even let himself touch a bread basket.”

“Nope,” Frank said.

“I’d murder people if I couldn’t have chocolate and bread.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Straight up, actual cold-blooded murder.”

“Sure.”

“That’s why I keep chocolate in the house, it’s for everyone’s safety,” Darcy said. Frank laughed as she nodded seriously.

“So, you buy him chocolate and you eat it, huh? I think my wife did that once.”

“That’s a good plan,” she said. “She was smart.”

“Yep,” Frank said. “She was--why you squeezing me?”

“I thought you might need it,” Darcy said. He huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes, I do.” He rubbed her back gently. “How come nothing good’s on, huh?”

“What if we did something else?” Darcy offered.

“Like sex? I just ate a huge quantity of pizza with you,” Frank grumbled. She laughed. 

“Actually, I had a different idea,” Darcy said. “You game?”

“What terrible tortures are you going to inflict on me? I draw the line at karaoke,” Frank said. 

“We should probably get a karaoke machine for when Clint visits,” Darcy said.

“Just how many boyfriends you planning to have?” he asked.

“Clint is married. And a friend, doofus.”

“If he likes to sing karaoke, his wife might be willing to let you keep him,” Frank said.

“How come you never play guitar?” Darcy asked. He’d mentioned that he used to.

“Left it at home,” Frank said. “Not much left of that anymore.”

“Frank,” Darcy said softly. Karen had told her that Frank had destroyed his house when he’d been the Punisher.  “What if we find some of your old stuff, huh?”

“What kinda stuff?”

“Photos--anything. I’m sure Karen would help.” Darcy looked at him in concern, rubbing his neck.

“Maybe,” Frank said, shrugging.

“Okay, in the meantime, I have a guitar substitute,” she said, bouncing up. “You can play it whenever.” She left and came back. “Here!”

“A fucking ukelele? What is wrong with you?” Frank said, laughing.

“C’mon, it might be fun! I bought it to torture Jane in the lab, but she just ignores it.” She handed it to him. “I’m getting my nail polish.”

“Nail polish?”

“I gotta practice my pedicure skills, Brock likes those. You can be my guinea pig, if you want?”

“Jesus,” Frank said, shaking his head. “Tiny guitars and nail polish?”

***

Brock unlocked the door, carried in his bag, and shut the door to Darcy’s apartment. It was four thirty-three in the morning. The apartment was dark and silent. Dog met him at the door, tail wagging. “Hey, buddy,” Brock said. “You wanna go for a walk?” He took Dog out, then returned quietly. He was hoping not to wake them. He patted the pit bull as he removed his leash, then stepped into the bedroom. Frank and Darcy were sleeping. Brock tilted his head. The former Punisher’s feet stuck out from under Darcy’s blanket.

“What you staring at?” Frank said. Brock was looking at his feet.

“Nice pedicure.”

“Darcy did it,” he told Brock, His toenails were painted with glitter and little stars.

“No kidding.”

“You take the dog out?” Frank said, squinting. Brock nodded.  

“Yeah. Slide over,” Brock said, starting to peel off his clothes. “I’m dead on my feet.” Frank shifted to the middle of the bed. Brock climbed in next to him, clad only his boxers. “Missed you both,” he said.

“Sure,” Frank said. His voice was wry. Brock stretched an arm around his waist. Frank didn’t push him away.

“I did, asshole,” Brock insisted, closing his eyes. Next to them, Darcy wheezed softly. As long as one or both of them was with her, she slept heavily. Frank wiggled, though. “You all right?” Brock said.

“Lemme get over,” Frank said, clamoring slightly over Brock. They were on top of each other when Brock chuckled.

“You wanna be the big spoon, Castle?”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “I’m the big fucking spoon, all right?”

“I know,” Brock said, smirking. Frank flushed. 

“Shut up.”

  
  


***

Darcy woke up and turned her head drowsily.  Next to her, Brock was sleeping on his on his back; Frank was tucked under his arm, face against Brock’s chest. Darcy smiled. Eventually, she thought, Frank would realize he genuinely wanted to be with Brock, but she wasn’t going to pressure him. She sometimes wondered if Frank’s feelings were as intense as her own or if he’d shut off that part of himself permanently. She and Frank—his proclivity for violence aside—were weirdly alike. She thought they were both sarcastic, non-fancy people who tended to hide their vulnerabilities behind humor. If anyone else could be as unmoored as she was by Brock Rumlow, it might be Frank. Selfishly, she wanted all three of them to be together. Really together. Darcy wiggled so she was under Brock’s other arm. When he felt her, he opened his eyes. “Hey, babygirl,” he said. 

“You’re back.”

“Got back at four-thirty.” He leaned over to kiss her. “You look beautiful.”

“Lies,” Darcy said. She beamed at him.

“So,” Brock said, “I had a crazy thought on the mission.”

“Yeah?”

“Lee needs a new place, his apartment building’s being remodeled,” he said.

“Yes,” Darcy said, nodding.

“I was thinking—if you wanna—you and Frank could move in with me and let Lee sublet here? My place has more space—” he was saying, when Darcy squealed in excitement.

“Yes,” she said. Her noise made Frank wake up. He wiped drool from his mouth.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Brock wants us to live in his swanky bachelor place,” Darcy said.

“It’s not that fancy, but I have a yard for the dog,” he said.

“Oh,” Frank said.

“It’s really nice,” Darcy told him.

“You don’t have to decide today.” Brock’s expression was careful.

“No, she wants to live in your fancyman place,” Frank said. “We’re moving.” He closed his eyes.

“Yay!” Darcy said. “I’m so excited.”

“Good,” Brock said.

 “Just stop shrieking like Flipper, Lewis,” Frank said, eyes closed. “I’m tryin’ to sleep here.”

 


	9. Housewarming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

“Are you telling me that you’re fucking that dude?” Curtis whispered to Frank. They were throwing a party to celebrate the three of them moving into Rumlow’s DC townhouse. He had a backyard. Curtis was looking across the lawn at Brock Rumlow. He was holding Darcy in his arms.

“It’s not like that,” Frank said. 

“It’s not?” Curtis said.

“We mostly have sex with her. Together,” Frank clarified. “I mean, he does give me blow jobs. Sometimes. Darcy’s always there. It’s friend sex.”

“Friend sex?” Curtis said, raising an eyebrow.

“I read this article, you know, all about these guys in the Midwest who, you know, sometimes their buddy gives ‘em a blowjob, it ain’t a big deal,” Frank said. “They’re married to women. It’s not like a romantic thing. It’s friend sex.”

“Uh-huh,” Curtis said.

“It’s not like I want to have romantic dinners with him,” Frank said. “I’m not, like, decorating with him or some shit. We don’t rub each others’ feet.”

“Yeah,” Curtis said, looking at Frank. 

“I do that with Darcy, not him. Well, I mean, he’s usually there, but she is, too.”

“Sure, Frank, you’re just friends who live together and date the same woman,” Curtis said mildly. Frank nodded.

“We do go to the gun range, though. Did I show you his gun sight? It’s this amazing fucking thing, you can see right through the walls, c’mere, I’ll show you,” Frank said, leading him inside and over to the gun case in a wall safe in the bedroom. He unlocked it.

“You have his passcodes?” Curtis said. He looked around the bedroom curiously. There was a California king-sized bed, but otherwise it was a normal bedroom.

“For security,” Frank said, taking the gun out. “Look at this goddamned thing. Why didn’t we have this shit in Kandahar?” Curtis looked into the gun sight, nodding.

“That’s pretty fucking amazing,” he told Frank. He could see the people out on the deck through the bedroom wall. Curtis handed back the weapon. Frank was looking at the guns, neatly arranged in the wall safe. “Frank?” Curtis asked, trying to get his attention.

“I coulda been discharged for doing this shit before, though,” Frank said. “They would have thrown me out under DADT.”

“Yeah,” Curtis said. “They would have.”

“That’s fucked up, you know? How can you help who you end up with?” Frank said. 

“You can’t,” Curtis said. “Glad we’ve moved on.”

“Until some bumfuck Senator from HeeHaw town brings that bullshit back,” Frank said. “Darcy wants to go to a march, but I dunno. All these lunatics targeting marches, I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“What does he say?” 

“We agree on that,” Frank said. “He’s good on security. He likes this SIG-Sauer P226, I dunno, I always preferred a Glock.”

“Nice photos,” Curtis said, looking at a photo of Rumlow and Darcy on the wall. The were petting an alpaca. A photo of Frank with Maria and the kids. Beneath that was a photo of the three of them.

“That’s us in Mexico,” Frank explained. 

“Was he always SHIELD?” Curtis asked.

“No, he was, uh,” Frank began. He lowered his voice, swallowed nervously. “He was a SEAL, Curtis.” Curtis looked at him incredulously and started to laugh.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking a goddamned SEAL,” Curtis said. “You goddamned traitor to the Corps.”

“Don’t tell nobody,” Frank said. “All the guys we served with would give me such shit.” He paused. “I still wonder what Maria would say.” Curtis looked at the gun safe and around at the bedroom.

“Probably that you could learn something from this motherfucker being so tidy and keeping his weapons clean,” he deadpanned. Frank blinked, then started to laugh. 

“Shit,” he said. “That is exactly what she would’ve said.” He shook his head. “He’s neater than Darcy.”

“She’s not that neat, though, is she?” Curtis said.

“She likes glitter,” Frank said, nodding. “She’s a little messy.”

 

“What are you two talking about?” a voice said. Darcy was standing in the doorway.

“Guns,” Frank said.

“Military stuff,” Curtis said.

“Uh huh,” she said, grinning. “Frank, can you help Brock with the beer? He’s moving it around.”

“Sure, yeah,” Frank said. He left them chatting and went out the front door. 

 

“Has he told you he’s dating Brock yet?” she asked. “I’m not sure he knows.”

“I’m not sure he knew he was dating Maria until she was pregnant, that’s kind of a Frank move,” Curtis said. Darcy started to laugh.

“You’re kidding,” she said.

“Hell, no,” Curtis said. “Apparently, he called Billy up, asked if he remembered  _ his friend Maria  _ and then told him that she was pregnant. I think Billy thought it was a whole different woman, like a dating two Jennifers situation.”

“Oh my God,” Darcy said. She paused, leaned in. “Okay, I have to ask you because I can’t ask Frank--did he and Billy ever date?”

“Not that I know of,” Curtis said. “But you know Billy’s ass wanted to, he’s obsessed with Frank.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I’ve been given many, many lectures on security.”

“You’re good for life, huh?” he said.

“They both act like I didn’t tase Thor when I was twenty-three,” she said. 

“Tell me about that one,” Curtis said, “because that sounds like a fun story.” 

  
  


Brock was moving a keg. He half-looked back when Frank said his name. “Don’t move that thing without a damn hand truck,” Frank said.

“You telling me what to do now?” Rumlow said.

“Somebody’s gotta keep you from doing dumb shit before you end up in traction,” Frank said and then stopped when Brock set down the keg and started to laugh. “What?” Frank said.

“You’re telling me not to do dumb shit? You?” he said, smirking.  

“Yeah, I am,” Frank said. He stepped closer to Brock. “Darcy cares about you, she wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Darcy, huh?” Brock said. 

“Yeah,” Frank said. 

“I’ll have to think about that,” Brock said. He turned to pick up the keg again and Frank made a disgruntled sound and seized his shoulder. “At least let me,” he grumbled. 

“Let you what, Frank?” Brock said teasingly.

“Don’t fuck with me, Rumlow,” Frank said.

“What, you don’t like that?” he said, tilting his head. He smirked. Frank leaned in without thinking, then caught himself.

“Shit,” he muttered. Brock huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“C’mere, asshole,” he said, pulling Frank to him. Frank hesitated, then pressed his mouth eagerly against Rumlow’s. Rumlow stroked the shaved back of Frank’s neck, sending a jolt of arousal straight to his dick.

“Fuck,” he moaned, leaning against the other man and closing his eyes to deepen the kiss. He felt Rumlow chuckle against his mouth. A hand pushed his chest back and a heated Frank stared into Brock’s eyes. “What?” he said. “You snubbing me now?”

“I gotta shut the garage door, unless you want to fuck in front of the neighbors?” he said.

“Oh. Yeah.” 

“You should see your damn face,” Rumlow said.

“I thought you were, you know, turning me down,” Frank said sheepishly, as Rumlow hit the button and the door lowered, creaking.

“No,” Rumlow said, half looking back. “You feel like helping me out?” he said, unbuttoning his pants.

“Yeah,” Frank said, swallowing. Rumlow returned to him, brushing his lips slightly with a gentle kiss. They backed up against the garage wall. Frank closed his eyes again. Kissing Rumlow made his heart race. It must be the height and the stubble that made his kisses feel so abrasive, yet so erotic, Frank thought. The eye contact. He had to look down at Darcy, but Rumlow’s gaze met his directly. He opened his eyes, breathed raggedly and looked down.  Rumlow’s cock was visibly straining through the fabric his briefs. Frank blinked. 

“You okay?” Rumlow said.

“Yeah,” Frank said. Rumlow kissed his neck as he reached out tentatively. He was half-mesmerized, half-panicky. They’d never done this alone. He’d never done this at all.  _ You know how to jerk off, dumbass,  _ his brain reminded him. Frank reached down into the other man’s briefs, feeling his ears flush and his pulse throb in his skull. He fumbled slightly, trying to stroke. “Shit,” he said, feeling clumsy. Someone else’s dick felt strange in his hands. He was hard, too, but he felt like an idiot.

“You’re fine,” Rumlow said. He sucked gently on Frank’s neck.

“I--I need a second,” Frank said, pulling back a little. He was breathing heavily. 

“Sure,” Rumlow said, doing that thing he did where he leaned backwards carefully. It was a smooth, non-aggressive movement, but it made Frank’s chest hurt. Rumlow had half-turned when Frank reached for his shoulder. 

“Don’t go,” Frank said. They had a moment of eye contact and he steered Rumlow against the wall. He let go of Rumlow’s shoulder and sank slowly to his knees.

“You don’t have to do this on the floor--” Rumlow said 

“Shut up, I’m trying to fucking focus,” Frank said, sliding his briefs down. The sight of Rumlow’s dick made him ache. “I’ve never fucking done this, either,” Frank said. He touched his tongue gently to the tip of Rumlow’s dick, then leaned in.

“Remember to breathe through your nose,” Rumlow said dryly, then groaned as Frank started to suck. “Christ, Frank.” He caressed the top of Frank’s head, sliding his fingers in the sensitive spot behind Frank’s ears, pressing down until he shivered. Frank shifted in pleasure, then looked up at Rumlow’s face. Those dark eyes were staring at him. “Feels good,” Rumlow said roughly. “I’m gonna make you feel good, too.” Rumlow’s smoldering expression was enough to send a jolt of arousal through his body. “Me or Darcy, whatever you feel like,” Rumlow added and Frank went dizzy with lust. He sucked harder, tasting the salty tang of Rumlow’s skin, inhaling the spicy, musky smell that clung to the skin between his thighs. “Oh, that just fucked you up, didn’t it?” Rumlow chuckled. “You hard right now?” He stroked his hand along the back of Frank’s skull against the way his hair grew. An overwhelmed Frank palmed his own dick roughly, then returned his hands to Rumlow’s thighs. He wanted friction. It was almost unbearable. He didn’t hear the door to the kitchen open.

“What are you--oh,” Darcy said.

“Come give Frank a hand, baby,” Brock said. “But maybe lock the door.”  

 


	10. Captain America Doesn't Like Bullies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

Everything settled into a nice rhythm, Darcy thought. Frank seemed comfortable at Brock’s and they even playfully razzed each other whenever Brock was home. She was curled up on the couch with Brock and Dog when Frank came back from a PI job. “You catch the cheating spouse?” Brock said, eyes on a basketball game.

“I’ve got more damn photos than Kodak,” Frank said, stretching. His shoulder cracked. 

“Oooh, honey, sit down, let me get that,” Darcy said, patting the couch. She rubbed his shoulders, working on the knot below his neck. Frank groaned. “Isn’t that sad?” Darcy wondered aloud. She was thinking of the cheating husband.

“What do you mean?” Brock said. He stood up. “You want a beer?” he asked Frank.

“Yeah, man,” Frank said.

“What if they regret their cheating?” Darcy said. “And this wrecks their marriage and they can’t undo it?”

“This guy did not look regretful, Lewis,” Frank said, tilting his head. Brock brought him the beer.

“She’s a soft, forgiving woman,” Brock said, half-teasingly, half-affectionately. He leaned over and kissed Darcy. “That’s why we love you,” Brock said.

“Awwww,” Darcy said. “I love you both, too.”

“You people are nauseating,” Frank said. “I miss the Marines.” Darcy burst out laughing and leaned against his neck. He grinned back at her. 

“Says the guy who buys the jewelry and the flowers,” Brock said.

“Just ‘cause I step up around here--” Frank said.

“I made dinner,” Brock said, looking offended. “Baby, don’t I step up?” Darcy was still laughing. Watching them bicker was practically her second favorite activity, after watching them...not bicker.

“Everyone steps up,” she said. “I’m the decider, I’ve decided everyone steps up.” She smiled. “I’m very happy and I hope you both are, too.”

“I’m happy,” Brock said quickly.

“Everybody knows you’re happy, asshole. That question was directed at me,” Frank said. He looked wryly at Darcy. “I’m, uh, pretty good,” he said. She rubbed his close-cropped hair back and forth. He grinned. “Let me up, touchy-feely, I’m gonna see what Rumlow cooked.” He went to the fridge. Darcy watched him. 

“Anything you want to change?” Darcy said lightly. Frank looked around the fridge door.

“Yeah,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Tell him to stop putting lemon in fucking everything.”

“Lemon’s good. Who don’t like lemon?” Brock said.

“It ain’t gotta be in everything, there’s no rule,” Frank said.

 

 

Several weeks after the housewarming party, Brock was walking with part of his team in the gym floor when Hernandez shoulder-checked him. “Watch your step,” Brock said casually.

“Didn’t realize you’d mind being walked over,” Hernandez said. Brock tilted his head.

“What’s that mean?”

“You let your floozy girlfriend move her guy in with you?” Hernandez said. “I mean, lots of men are scared of Frank Castle, but you’re letting him fuck your girl and live in your house?”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow said. The housewarming had spread gossip around SHIELD, but he didn’t care. He moved to keep walking. He hadn’t spent years working on his temper to be baited by shit like this. 

“Running away, huh?” Hernandez said. “You’re a cuck, Rumlow. The bitch cucked you.” Brock stiffened, but kept walking; didn’t engage. What he didn’t expect was the medicine ball that landed between his shoulders.

“Hey!” one of the other Alpha agents said, wheeling and moving forward.

“Don’t,” Brock said. He was perfectly calm. Outwardly. Inside, he could feel his heart rate go up. The edges of his vision had gone a little red. He breathed in slowly.

“Boss, that’s assault,” the agent said.

“Let it go,” Brock told him.

“You gonna write me up, HYDRA cuck?” Hernandez yelled.

“What’d you say, asshole?” a different voice said from the doorway. Brock jerked his head in that direction. Frank was standing there. Brock hadn’t expected Frank. Something was off, too. His stare was especially blank. Even from across the room, Brock could see the rise and fall of Frank’s chest. Not good.

“I asked you a goddamn question, dirtbag. You were pretty chatty when you insulted my boyfriend and my girl,” Frank said. His eyes were locked on Hernandez. He moved forward. “You ain’t got nothing to say now, huh? You’re real quiet.” There was something frightening enough about his face that several agents automatically stepped back.

“Frank,” Brock began soothingly. He’d read Frank’s file. There had been video files. Frank had a voice he used when he was angry. This was the first time Brock had heard it in person. “Frank, he’s a piece of shit, but he’s not worth it, okay?” Brock said. He moved forward.“You look at me, all right?” Brock was using his arms to try and block Frank’s forward momentum, holding one hand up. “Look at me,” he repeated. He tried to break Frank out of his lethal mood.

“No,” Frank said. “He hit you with that, he touched you.”

“It is not worth jeopardizing your pardon status, all right? Look at me, Frank.” Frank breathed in several rough waves, then finally looked at him. He seemed to shake off his murderous expression. Brock reached out and touched Frank’s chest gently. “It’s okay,” he said. Frank relaxed. "Good. Good job," Brock said. Frank nodded.

Hernandez sneered and muttered a slur, but neither of them were looking at him. “Did you just hear yourself?” Brock said softly. He smiled. 

“Yeah,” Frank said. “Shit, I said boyfriend—”

“I’m glad,” Brock said. “I’ve been saying it for weeks.” He smirked. “Nice of you to catch up.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Frank said. He was actually blushing.

 

Hernandez was turning on his heel when a shadow fell across him. The blow came a second later. Brock half turned at the thud. Steve Rogers was grinning at him. Hernandez was on the floor. “I got him!” Steve said cheerfully.

“Is—is that fucking Captain America?” Frank said, befuddled.

“Cap doesn’t like language,” Brock said.

“I can let it go, he’s new. You’re their boyfriend?” he said, stepping over the prone Hernandez to greet Frank. “Why haven’t we met before?”

“You and Barnes were on vacation, then we were on vacation, then Tunisia and the Philippines missions—” Brock was saying as Frank stared openly.

“Captain America,” Frank said. 

“So they tell me,” Steve said. His smile was wide. “Well, it’s great to meet you, Frank. Please don’t kill anybody else and be nice to Darce, I’d hate to have to bring you in.”

“Yeah,” Frank said, looking stunned.

“Rumlow, the three of you should really have dinner with me and Bucky sometime!” he called as he stepped back over Hernandez.

“Who is Bucky?”

“His boyfriend,” Brock said. “Cap gets to hit people. Some sort of clause in his SHIELD contract about how it’s his thing.”

“Okay,” Frank said. He blinked. 

“Everything okay?” one of the agents asked.

“Yeah,” Brock said. “Why are you here?” he asked Frank quietly.

“Supposed to meet Darcy, take you to lunch. Surprise,” Frank said. He looked shy again. He was staring at his feet.

“Great,” Brock said. There were heavy footsteps. For a second, Brock thought Steve had come back, but it was Thor and Darcy, walking Dog.

“Hey!” she said. She saw Hernandez. “What happened? Training accident?”

“Guy was being rude, Captain America handled it,” one of the agents said. 

“Oh,” she said. Thor frowned.

“And Frank’s our boyfriend,” Brock said to her.

“Really?” she said, then looked at Frank.

“Yeah,” Frank said, blushing. Darcy started to cry. She sort of stumbled into Brock’s arms, pulling Frank with her. Dog’s tail thumped against her leg.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Brock said.  The other agents hefted Hernandez between them.

“Medical,” one said to Brock. He nodded over Darcy’s shoulder. She was snuggling against his chest and rubbing Frank’s arm as she cried. Frank looked concerned.

“Are you okay?” he said.

“I’m—I’m not crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because I’m happy,” she said.

"I think she needs food," Frank told Brock. 

 

The End


End file.
